The Hermit in the Lab
by Cytopathological Expansionist
Summary: Dr. Zach Addy's life is based around routines and plans. The late great John Lennon said "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." This is also true for Death. Zach learns that when his post-it comes, logic has nothing to do with it.
1. Chapter 1

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox, and all of their affiliates. I am making absolutely no money. Although in this economy and job market, profiting off of copy right infringement does not seem like the most terrible idea.

If anyone wishes to volunteer to beta this fic, please feel free to contact me.

The day started off normally.

Dr. Zach Addy woke up promptly at six, ate breakfast, did some light weights, cardio, showered, and was out the door by 8:30 AM. It was a routine he hadn't broken in over four years.

He carpooled with Hodgins because he did not possess a license due to fear of driving, not due to some sense of duty to the environment. Even after years of driving with the etymologist, Zach always had an underlying feeling of anxiety. He knew exactly where the weak points and design flaws where in the mini cooper. He was not confident in himself, or any car, enough to drive himself and as long as Hodgins didn't mind; he felt no need to get over his fears.

The ride over consisted mostly of Jack Hodgins, Zach's best friend, coworker, and landlord talking particulars about the case they were working on. Jack's mind was filled with one conspiracy after the other. Zach was used to his friend's paranoia that the "Man" was somehow involved in their everyday life. Dr. Addy had no idea who this man was and how he had the time to be concerned with every mundane occurrence that happened. It was a normal day, so Zach did his normal response. "[insert today's theory] is illogical because [insert why it's illogical]." He always made very good points but Hodgins never listened. Jack just knew that he was onto something. Or several somethings. It was never quite clear what Jack thought he knew. He was too paranoid to fully verbalize his thoughts in fear that "big brother" was listening.

Zach pointed out that Hodgins was an only child.

So Jack responded with his usual reply. "You just don't get it, Zach." Deep sigh at the frustration of the blissfully naive.

That was said a lot to Zach in his lifetime. What exactly _it _was, he could never understand and no one seemed to be able to tell him. He concluded "it" was just one of those things he was not good at. Like women and conversing socially.

The day went on as normal. Zach helped Dr. Temperance Brennan with a murder victim. He cleaned the bones after Bone's initial examination and Dr. Saroyan's examination and collection of tissue samples.

Very methodically, he prepared the bones for maceration. Today, he would use the Dermestidae, otherwise known as flesh eating beetles. Despite the thousands of beetles, Zach could tell a majority of them apart. He even affectionately named several of them. Zoe and Wash seemed particularly hungry today. He told himself to use them in case Hodgins wanted to race the beetles today. They surely will be the most well fed and therefore more energetic by this afternoon.

After de-fleshing the bones, Dr. Brennan and Dr. Addy promptly got to work on identifying all markers on the bones to get a clearer picture of what happened. They both worked well together, as neither were prone to emotional attachment and were able to efficiently inventory any and all abnormalities.

Zach then went to Hodgins to exchanged ideas and theories. Jack came up with several experiments, most of them very convoluted and fairly dangerous. Dr. Saroyan had to step in a couple times to veto the more hazardous tests. He was able to determine the murder weapon and Zach claimed "King of the Lab" once again.

Agent Seeley Booth arrived at the Medico-Lab to give his own theories of what happened. It was all pure conjecture, but he still managed to amaze Zach. Seeley was able to help solve cases based on his own intuition, which Zach could not fathom doing. Dr. Brennan had a theory that Booth was actually inadvertently noticing subtle body cues among other things. It made more sense than knowledge coming from nowhere, but Zach was still puzzled at how Booth was able to be so accurate with no solid facts to go on. Booth was the cool jock that Zach always wanted to hang out with, but for whatever reason was met with animosity in high school. Seeley assured Zach before that the stony silence they stood in when Temperance wasn't there was how males bonded. It wasn't what he and Jack did, but Zach knew that Booth was much more experienced in the realm of social interaction; so he trusted that Booth knew what he was doing. Zach so desperately wanted to ask the agent about what he should do about Naomi in Paleontology, but he knew better. He only had to be threatened with a gun once to get the message. He was happy just to be in the agent's presence and tolerated.

Eventually it was lunch time at the Jeffersonian. Every so often, Zach would get caught up in his work that he forgot to eat. But the in house forensic reconstruction artist, Angela Montenegro, reminded him to take a break from work and eat something. He found a lot of her behavior to be illogical, but she was very caring and he could appreciate that. She never had any animosity or disdain towards him, and often would make an effort to help him. Unlike Booth, she was always ready to give him advice on women; even when he had no clue as to what she was talking about and felt more confused than when he first asked.

He left his bones, and sat in his office eating his macaroni. Zach was very set in his ways. He has been eating macaroni practically every day since he started working at the Jeffersonian. It's very rare that he'd go to the local diner with a member of his team for lunch. Macaroni just made the most sense to Zach. Not only was it very palatable, it was quick and easy to make. It had all the carbs and calories to get him through the rest of the day. It was the most efficient lunch.

So far it was an exceedingly normal day for Zach. If he knew it was going to be the day that he died, he might have done something to make it not so average.


	2. Chapter 2

Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.

No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction.

Alana sat at Au Bon Pain with a cherry croissant and a large black coffee. She looked like any other Federal employee waiting for a co-worker. She was undistinguishable from one person to the next. Unassuming brown hair, layered as was the style. Ordinary female suit in black, tailored to her curves but not risqué. She even had what looked like a security badge on a lanyard on her neck.

To anyone passing by, she was just another government employee enjoying a hot beverage and a pastry.

She was waiting for someone though, her partner from the "Department." Denise Aru was due to meet her, and it was already pressing on three in the afternoon. Most of the lunch rush had passed but there were always those who wanted to get a late bite to eat.

She hadn't seen her all day, so she assumed that Denise had been busy doing "cases" as they at the Department liked to call it.

Alana and Denise were Grim Reapers, or just Reapers; the undead civil servants of the afterlife. They didn't fit the stereotype of the black cloak, scythe, and skeletal hand with the touch of death. No, they looked like ordinary people and held ordinary jobs. Sometimes really shitty ordinary jobs.

Reapers were a vital part of life. Without them, souls would remain in their bodies as it rotted away around them. Not very pleasant, and it has happened a couple times because a Reaper couldn't find their target. So a Reaper's job was very important.

Denise finally showed up and Alana was glad to see her. She's been working with her partner for almost two years now. Alana was considered an old pro of the trade by now, but every city had its own rules and way of doing things. Denise had been Alana's mentor when she first got to D.C. It turned out that they worked really well together, so they were paired on a permanent basis. Most cases only needed one Reaper but every other one, they worked in teams. Sometimes you just needed that wingman.

D.C. works differently than most cities. It is chalk full of government workers, diplomats, lawyers, and elected officials. That means that a lot of people have a lot of things they want to keep safe. This safety measure is expressed by damn near every building having some sort of security and with that a need for clearance.

Washington D.C. is a town of bureaucracy, so they conducted their job as such. Unlike most Reaper cells, Reapers in D.C. were given a job instead of having to find one themselves. They had to do a shit load of paperwork to make up for that luxury. The majority of Reapers in the world just had to reap and their job was over. D.C. Reapers have to reap and then report on it. It was a pain in the ass, but at least they didn't have to struggle to get into any buildings. Their badges gave them access to even the most restricted areas.

So when Denise plopped down a red folder, Alana gave a small sigh of frustration.

"Wow…really?" was all Alana could get out. It was too hot for such a difficult case.

Denise gave a small smile and just nodded her head.

Alana was not looking forward to this Reap. Folders meant high profile. High profile meant a lot of security. A lot of security meant a lot of scrutiny. Scrutiny meant major FML. Despite their badges giving them access, they still had to justify why they were there.

She slowly picked up the red folder, and leafed through its contents.

"Hmmm…Dr. Zach Addy." Alana said out loud as she perused through the file. She noticed it included a picture of him. That wasn't a good sign. It meant that he was so secured that they had to do this quickly; in and out before anyone got the wiser. "He's kinda cute; doesn't really look like he's old enough to have a doctorate though. _Two_ doctorates."

Alana was pretty impressed.

The Reap had shaggy hair and an adorable smile. Alana couldn't help but feel a little sad his life was going to be cut so short. He's only a few years older than when Alana herself died.

Normally their Reaps, or cases as they call them in public, only give them first initial, last name, address, and estimated time of death. A post-it or a quick email were usually all they were given. More info is only given if the person has high security clearance and they needed to really plan out what to do.

Dr. Zachary Uriah Addy was an exceptional young man who was going to be fairly hard to get to; Forensic Anthropologist at the Jeffersonian. Not your typical D.C. worker.

Denise and Alana have been to the Jeffersonian before. There was this one case where a wooly mammoth display broke and impaled this poor bastard right through the head. The place was huge and they barely got to him in time. That was the part that was open to the public, god only knows what the off limit labs were like.

His death address was in Bethesda, a wealthy suburb of D.C., but it wasn't till 8:13PM. The higher ups actually give cause of death, which usually means it's going to be pre-meditated murder.

Zach Addy was going to be stabbed right through the heart. Alana winced because that had to be unpleasant.

Normally Reapers never know specific details unless there's a possibility of being exposed. Being dead, no real need for job safety; but with pre-meditated murder it's a hell of a mess to clean up, not to mention explain, if they got up and walked around after they've been shot, stabbed, and whatnot if the Reapers got into it with the murderer. So in murder cases, only necessary details and plenty of time were given. Secrecy was the cornerstone of their job. If the living population caught wind that there were actual Reapers…it's safe to say that all hell would break loose and it'd be open season on the undead. The Living had a very hostile attitude towards Death.

Alana took a quick look at her watch and took note that it was three-thirty in the afternoon. It was too late to catch him at lunch, if he went out at lunch at all.

Management only ever gave the bare ass minimum when it came to Reaps. They said it kept things objective, and therefore the job easier. Alana guessed they cared about their Reapers mental well being, but their Reap's habits would really come in handy about now.

"So we have to get to him before he leaves for work."

Denise nodded her agreement and Alana suspected she already had a plan. Alana could only hope that it wasn't as harebrained as her other ones. Dressing up as German barmaid singing telegrams was the last one. Lederhosen were not comfortable.

"Any idea what to do?" Alana asked her partner, hoping to dear god it did not involve skimpy outfits or yodeling.

"I was thinking some kind of super fan, he works with Temperance Brennan." Denise replied.

"The crime novelist?" Alana asked in a surprised tone. She has never actually read any of Dr. Brennen's novels but Denise is an avid fan, so she feels as if she's read them.

"The one in the same. The Reap is on her team of scientists, so I'm hoping we can go in as tourists and then 'get lost' in hopes of reaching her. I just need to get a hand on him, and then wait for him at the address at the ETD."

ETD was the estimated time of death. There were so many factors that can influence how a person dies, especially if it's an accident/murder/suicide. So they could only get an approximate time instead of an exact time. Working for The External Influences Dept really could be exasperating at times.

Alana was quiet for a moment because this plan was fairly simple and straight forward. This was not something Denise was prone to. She was one of the Reapers who thought that their job could be fun, so instead of normal excuses, she usually came up with the most convoluted reason to be at a reap site. She still wasn't sure how they got away with "ghost hunters" when the Reap lived in a newly built McMansion in the suburbs.

"It's one of your saner, plans so I'm going to go with it." Alana was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "OK, we're on the corner of 6th and Indiana. The Jeffersonian is on Smithson Drive., so let's get a cab."

"You wuss, it's only a couple blocks away." Denise scoffed at her partner.

"Ok I don't know if you got the memo, but it's humid as hell not to mention _several_ blocks away. So cab it is." Alana sarcastically said while simultaneously dismissing Denise.

Denise relented, knowing it would get terribly uncomfortable walking. D.C. weather was a bitch. So the two hailed a cab and were off to meet Dr. Addy for an appointment he didn't know he had.


	3. Chapter 3

Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.

No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction.

Zach Addy held a skull under a harsh light and looked at it intently. This was not an unusual occurrence for the doctor, but he did have a furrow in his brow. He knew that the skull had some hidden secret he couldn't figure out. If he was prone to emotion, any type of emotion, one would even say that he had a frustrated scowl upon his face.

Dr. Addy firmly believed that the bones held all the answers to someone's life. He could tell age, sex, diet, even hobbies of the deceased; all from their bones. The average person only knows ten to fifteen bones, if that; and they probably only know the laymen terms and approximate locations for them. Hip bone, cheek bone etc…But Zach knew all of the 206 bones that constitute the adult human body, 300-350 bones in an infant's before they fused. He knew the name of every dip, pore, and ridge. Bones did not lie. They are what is left behind when all else rots away.

Zach had already methodically cataloged all bone markers and any abnormalities. To a regular person, the surface of one bone looked like the next. Skilled anthropologists like Dr. Addy and Dr. Brennan could teach classes on the different subtleties that bones possess. Booth had even remarked their talents as "magic" which was completely illogical since it was clearly just a keen eye and the scientific method. Zach vocalized Booth's misnomer of their skills but all he got in return was the agent's scoff and threat of bodily harm in the form of a shot to the head. It wasn't in Zach to decipher the compliment of "magic" to mean that their skills were so impressive that it couldn't be humanly possible. Figurative speech was lost on Zach, but Booth never seemed to learn this.

The skull in Zach's hands belonged to a violin virtuoso and the bones told his entire life story…except who killed him. The killer, christened Gormogon, seemed to be going after very specific people and very particular body parts to put into a sculpture of a skeleton in a Widow's Son pose. To the ancient Greeks this was a pose of sacrifice. What or who exactly Gormogon was sacrificing to was unknown. It was also irrelevant. Hodgins, being a conspiracy theory aficionado, was fairly excited about this case. He wasn't happy that people were dying, but reveled in the secret society element. The Ancient Nobel Order of the Gormogons, hence the name Gormogon, was said to have been anti-Masonic in nature during the 18th century. No records of their accomplishments or goals have ever been recorded, so their society has been shrouded in secret and lost in time.

Zach had no idea how being against the Freemasons led to eating people.

The violinist's left fifth metacarpal was the only bone, out of _206_, to make it into the Widow's Son statue. From their investigations, the Jeffersonian team knew that the killer was choosing victims who matched certain archetypes according to tarot cards found in a bank vault. The crypt held various occult and religious paraphernalia; nothing seemed to be inherently connected to each other but it was all owned by a disturbed ritualistic killer. There was a method to his madness though. He killed in a particular order and the victims had very specific traits. Gormogon favored a fatal stab to the heart, and then he consumed his victim's flesh. However he chose which bones were worthy to put into his "masterpiece," were not clear but once he chose them he put them into the statue; replacing every silver piece with its real bone counterpart. The rest of the body he threw away at a discreet location.

While the tarot cards specified who he was after, the meanings were left open to interpretation; the team was trying to figure out that process before Gormogon struck again and new bones were sent to the Jeffersonian. It was bad enough that Gormogon was able to send body parts to the lab without much trouble, but in a way the killer was taunting them. He didn't seem to care that he was sending evidence to a top rate facility and the nation's best anthropologist. He only seemed to care about finishing the statue. Gormogon knew that he was as meticulous as the scientists at the Jeffersonian, so he knew he didn't have much to fear when it came to getting caught…yet. Zach was very confident that they would eventually crack the case. At the moment he was surveying each bone with attention to every minute detail. He would find something relevant and claim King of the Lab.

The other evidence at his station were the patellae belonging to a priest and the inferior maxillary belonging to a lobbyist. Thanks to Zach's keen eye the team was able to discern who the former victim was fairly quickly. As with the violinist, the bones did not lie. There were notable wearing and stress markers on both patellae, so Dr. Addy was able to determine that the individual spent a lot of times on his knees. While the first thoughts to pop into the teams mind, meaning Hodgins and Booth, were rather scandalous; the team determined it was a man of the cloth. Booth quickly looked up any missing clergy men and Fr. Douglas Cooper was identified. The only link the victims had was that they were members of the Knights of Columbus. The fraternal Catholic order was made up of practicing Catholic males eighteen and older. Their main objective was charity work. Even Hodgins admitted there were no reliable theories to vilify the order. While it does have connections to the Freemasons, there really was no reason to target the Knights.

Despite the new evidence, it only added to the madness of the killer. It didn't add to the identity of him.

The third victim they were close to saving but were unable to convince the lobbyist that he was in any danger. While he was logical in his assumption since they did not have solid proof, this was one of the few instances where Zach saw the merits of taking certain thing on good faith. If the lobbyist had done such, he probably would have lived.

That was what was frustrating Zach. There just wasn't enough data to even begin to identify the killer or be able to identify the next victim. There was only the initial profile which stated that the killer was most likely male and had a younger male accomplice. Most of this was completely conjecture as there was no DNA evidence to support any of Dr. Sweet's assumptions. Seeing as there were approximately 600,000 people in D.C. alone, about half of them were males. These revelations, even if they were proven true, were decidedly unhelpful at the moment.

They had caught the younger accomplice who did turn out to be male, but Zach attributed it to mostly random chance rather than any scientific merit. The young male admitted to the cannibalization but would not give up his "master." The disturbed young man only commented on how human fleshed tasted. A slight wave of nausea rippled through Zach who could not contemplate how someone could pallet human flesh. Zach was a very picky eater, hence why he ate mac 'n' cheese every day.

The next card on the tapestry was identified as the hermit. According to Sweets this will probably be someone older, secluded, and very wise. Wisdom was a subjective term, so it was not much to go on.

The vault held a plethora of evidence but none that Zach could make any sound theory on.

Zach did not particularly care for the vault. It contained all sorts of occult supplies that he couldn't wrap his head around.

He didn't understand how people could believe in such things as magic or gods when there was absolutely no empirical evidence of such. And whatever "evidence" there was could be easily explained by science.

Zach never contemplated the reasons why things happened; he only comprehended how things happened. Dr. Lance Sweets was their resident psychologist and the one to explain the ins and outs of Gormogon. At the moment he was working on the profile of the killer but it was slow in coming. Without more proof, he was just as stuck as the rest of the crew.

There was no way to apply the scientific method to such things as magic or supposed supernatural phenomena. Without the scientific method, Dr. Addy was at a total loss of how to explicate the evidence. While he did not put much faith into the soft science, if it could be called science at all, that was psychology; Zach did not have the enmity that Dr. Brennan felt for the discipline. He was rather apathetic towards the field of psychology but could at least see it has its uses since Sweets has proven in the past to be rather adept and helpful when it came to cases. Profiling seemed, to Zach, to be a bunch of guesswork but when it produced results he couldn't begrudge Dr. Sweets for his technique.

Zach did not know how Lance was going to go about deciphering the meaning behind all that was in the crypt and he didn't spend much time contemplating it. The vault was not his focus and was not part of his duties as an anthropologist. He was content to let Sweets take the lead on the crypt and figure out who the next victim was going to be.

His job was the go over the bones meticulously till he found something. Zach was eager to figure out who the kill was, as he was not used to being frustrated in such a way. If there was a problem, he in all his above 165 IQ level could figure out how to solve it. All life was, was data to be put together and made sense of in a logical manner.

A deeper part of him though did want the killer caught so Gormogon wouldn't kill again. A small part of Zach was afraid of who the next victim was. As detached as Zach was from cases, children were still a soft spot for him. If Gormogon's next prey turned out to be a child, then Zach would have a hard time forgiving himself for not being able to figure out Gormogon's method's. What good was being a genius if he couldn't complete his job and catch the killer?

While the hermit card suggested someone older, a few cards down there was a page of cups. That did suggest someone younger, possibly a child. Zach was adamant about figuring out this madman before someone else got hurt.

The murderer had an order to his killings. One of the things that Zach remembered about the crypt was the tapestry with several cards on it. Sweets explained that they were part of a larger deck of cards that were typically used to divine the future. The concept was utterly ridiculous since there were so many factors and variables that contributed to an outcome in someone's life; thinking that seventy-eight cards that were picked at random could predict anything was completely illogical. People put a lot of credence in such practices when anything that happened to be true could be attributed that the cards meaning were vague and broad. The cards each had its own meaning that was bound to be true on some level to some people.

Zach's mind refocused on the bones. He knew that if he was going to crack this case, then it would not be found in the crypt. It would be found in the bones. The vault was not his or the team's concern. The why did not matter, it only mattered that Gormogon was the killer and he needed to be stopped.

They all left the why to Dr. Sweets. He could try to figure out the hermit on his own.

Perhaps if Zach and the other squints were more adept at figuring out the why, they wouldn't have to lose one of their own.


	4. Chapter 4

The irony that their cover story was to "get lost" and they actually became lost, was not _lost_ on Alana.

It wasn't their fault, not really. Museums and adjoining laboratories were not exactly directionally friendly. There's no apparent order to the departments or were there any convenient maps saying which is where. She guessed that was the whole point since some of the Jeffersonian is used for national security. Such as the Medico-Legal lab which they were trying to find but were not having any luck.

"Fuck! I can't believe we're lost. If we don't get him before he leaves, god knows what we'll have to do to reap him." Denise stated, starting to get worried. This was a far cry from her usual laid back attitude. Alana shrugged it off because it was a homicide case and knew the terrible repercussions of not collecting a soul in time.

Most of the workers at the Jeffersonian Institute seemed to overlook them and did not pay mind that they didn't have security badges. This was mostly in thanks to the natural "pay no attention to me" aura that all reapers give off. It's to help stave off suspicion if they're seen at more than one murder/accident/suicide site at any given day.

They eventually made their way to a hallway that led to glass doors. The doors stood alone for an entire section of the Jeffersonian and seemed there were no other departments in this wing. The plaque next to the doors said "Medico-Legal Lab. Dept Head Camille Saroyan M.D., Esq."

"Is this the right place?" Alana asked her partner, unsure if there were more than one medico-legal lab in the place.

Denise checked the file again and scanned through the information. "Work place: The Jeffersonian, Medico-Legal Lab…blah, blah blah…ha! Boss, Dr. Camille Saroyan. Yes, this is it."

Both females steadied themselves because they knew they were going to have to pull some class A B.S. from their asses if they wanted to pull off this reap. One would think that it'd be really easy to simply touch someone, especially when they knew what their target looked like. But no, it's a lot harder than it sounds. Reapers have to not only make the situation seem natural, but something the Reap, and surrounding people, would just shrug off and forget within the next second. Running up to people randomly, asking their name, and then touching them tends to make a lasting impression. Especially if said person dies within the next five minutes.

So the girls had to put on their acting hats and hope for the best.

They easily got past the glass doors as there was no security locks on them. The women walked into what seemed an entirely different world.

The Medico lab was a huge open space, like a warehouse with huge windows that let in a lot of natural light. In the center was a platform that seemed to be the focus of the room. There were various people milling about in lab coats but a majority was on the platform hunched over something on a table. Alana couldn't quite make out what they were looking at but knowing what they target did for living, she was sure it was something she didn't want to see. She saw enough gruesome things on the job; she didn't need to see other people's horrific line of work.

A lone person at a work station caught her attention. It was a tall brown haired male holding what looked to be a human skull. He was staring at it with rapt attention, as if it was the only thing in the entire universe.

"That's our Reap." Alana whispered to her partner. Denise saw what she was looking at and both of them had the same thought. They headed towards the male and hopefully things could go off without a hitch.

Out of the corner of her eye Alana saw dark grey movements. Gravelings, the little spiked ape like bastards who put into motion people's deaths. Alana wondered briefly if there was to be another death in the building, but the death makers seemed to be rather docile at the moment.

"I guess they're stalking him to make sure he gets to where he needs to be" she thought. A heavy ache started in her chest, because for a brief moment she felt sorry for him: Dr. Zach Addy. He's only a year older than when Alana herself died. It was a much different time and over thirty years ago. He had so much promise. Did he have a wife? Kids? Thankfully "upper management" didn't include that info in his dossier. Probably would have made things even harder than they are now.

All his education and accomplishments were going to mean nothing in a few hours. In spite of how many reaps she'd done over the years, Alana still got a little sad at the lives cut short. She also sometimes wondered what she could have done in life if she was left to live it out.

Probably not much, given the time and the lost feeling she constantly had.

Alana shook herself mentally and prepared for the task at hand. No point in drudging up old memories and things of no consequence. They had a job to do, and it had only just begun.

Dr. Temperance Brennan noticed them first. She was always ultra-aware of the on-goings of her lab. The two females did not belong. It was indicative to their lack of lab coats and security badges. She observed them quietly and wondered why no one else seemed to notice the intruders. Brennan caulked it up to concentrated on their work.

Two females of Caucasian decent, Brennan had habitually categorized in her head. One had brown hair, the other auburn. The brunette was approximately 2 meters and judging her hip width at least early twenties. Other than that the female did not have any distinct facial or physical features that Brennan could discern. If she had an x-ray, she'd be able to give more precise details. The one with auburn hair was a bit older but about the same height. Her clothes were also a bit baggier so Brennan couldn't tell if she had children. Curiously, the female was just as nondescript as the other. In all her years of anthropology, she has never come across someone so un-distinctive, much less two. Everyone had at least one feature about themselves that make them stand out from the crowd.

Angela had abnormally high cheek-bones that were considered aesthetically pleasing in western culture. Hodgins had curly hair and what she once overheard the interns say "breathtaking ocean blue eyes." Booth had a very symmetrical face and strong build; definitely a good breeder by today's standards and anthropologically speaking. Then there was Zach. His face was completely symmetrical. It amazed Temperance at how perfectly symmetrical his bone structure was. She'd be able to pick him out of a line up any day. People didn't notice things like that though. People mostly focus on the outer layer of the skin; parts that Dr. Brennan just doesn't understand why people put so much focus on. She's heard many an intern say he was "cute as a puppy dog" (which made no sense to Brennan as Zach had no bone structure whatsoever in common with a canine) and knew he'd be a good genetic breeder with his vast superior intellect. He was insufficient in the physical department, but his offspring would no doubt be plenty viable otherwise. Temperance did sympathize that he was particularly deficient in the social interaction part of his life. Booth liked to point it out many times. Brennan doesn't really understand what was wrong with him, but plenty of people have said there was something off about her forensic teammate. She would contemplate this later, cause at the moment the two misplaced females were not going away.

"What are you two doing here?" Dr. Brennan asked in a stern and slightly annoyed voice. With this case, they really did not need any type of distraction.

Both Reapers froze momentarily from being called out. Being veterans at the job, they easily composed themselves for the task at hand. They've met people like Dr. Brennan before. People too damned observant for their own good and could see through the Reaper's shields. Normally people were so self-involved that Reaper's probably didn't even need the aura, but overall it was a handy trick to have.

Alana was the first to speak. "Oh I'm so sorry. We were with a tour group and got hopelessly lost." For good measure, she motioned to her tour badge as evidence.

"Be that as it may, this is a secured area. You need to leave immediately." The doctor replied dispassionately.

That threw Alana and Denise off a bit. Usually people offered to help them in some way, but Dr. Brennan unceremoniously basically told them to eff off.

So they had a bit of a dilemma. No one was offering to help them in any way, plus it seemed no one was willing to move from their stations. This wasn't anything new since they lived and worked in DC. What DC had was plenty of uptight assholes whose entire life centered on their career.

This would not deter the Reapers from their job.

"Wow, you're Dr. Brennan! I love your books!" Denise cried in an attempt to prolong their time at the Medico-Legal Lab. The Reapers had to think fast because they knew their excuse wasn't sticking but at least it seemed their Reap wasn't going anywhere. Apparently the skull in his hand was just the most awesome thing ever. He had yet to take his eyes off it since they got there.

Alana saw that the writer was going to be the one to distract since she saw through the Reaper's aura. They were prepared for such an occasion though, as they were one of the best Reaping team in their Department.

Denise took on the role of the forceful fan, yielding one of Brennan's books and approached the platform. The forensic team quickly deduced what the female wanted to do and rushed to stop her from setting of the alarms.

While Denise put on her fangirl jeans, Alana went to the target. Alana was not his Reaper, but being in his proximity would at least give Denise a reason to be near him later on as she went over to collect Alana. Normally in this situation, Denise would have been inching towards her Reap while Alana distracted. But since, Denise actually read the books they thought it'd be better to have her distract in case she was asked anything specific.

Alana approached the scientist with caution, so as to not totally disturb him from his duties. This was his last day alive, might as well give him all the time he needs with his passion. She could tell Dr. Addy was avid about what he does. She's never seen anyone so intense and focused on their work; and she's reaped countless amounts of politicians and lawyers. She was hoping that this target wouldn't a prissy little whiner about her presence. Most of the workers in D.C. tended to think their job and time were the most important in the universe. So when she had to get their attention, she was often met with great hostility. Those were the times she pitied her reaps. So wrapped up in their jobs and it would be the last thing they ever do.

Dr. Addy seemed different. He didn't give off the vibe of pompous asshole, although he might have a reason too. He had two doctorates in applied physics and anthropology; pretty impressive for one so young.

Zach finally tore his gaze away from the skull and looked up to see a woman standing in front of his station. He wore a look of slight confusion, as he did not know who she was or what she was doing here.

"Hello" he said to the stranger. Angela told him that was the proper and least creepy way to greet someone he didn't know; "Who are you and what do you want?" is considered to be rude. "You have abnormally large supra orbital processes" is not only confusing but sounds insulting; at least according to Angela.

The female gave him a bright smile and returned the greeting. Zach remained silent because he was not sure of how to proceed. He looked behind the woman and saw that Dr. Brennan and Booth were talking to another female he did not know. He observed his teammate's posturing and they showed signs of being uncomfortable. Zach couldn't be sure as he was terrible at deducing people's emotional state.

"Oh don't mind my friend, she's an aggressive fangirl, but she's harmless" the female said with a smile as she noticed his line of vision.

Zach remained silent because he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Aggressive fangirl?" he thought confusedly to himself. A mental picture of a girl who had an arrangement of rotating blades as part of her person attacking people came to mind. He knew that was completely illogical as it was impossible for humans to be part machine like that as the technology wasn't available. Not to mention, why a fan? If he were to be part machine, he'd be something useful. Like a microscope. He assumed it was another colloquialism that he didn't know.

Alana didn't notice Zach's lack of understanding, as she investigated what he was holding. It was a skull; a human skull, as in "it used to be someone's head" human skull. Despite all the death she's witnessed, sometimes very grisly as graveling were macabre little fuckers, she never had to deal with the bones. She reaped and then escorted the souls to their lights. She's never had to deal with the bodies after they died. This young man dealt with human remains every day. Alana wondered to herself, if perhaps Dr. Addy was going to be very adept at being a Reaper. He already seemed very comfortable with death.

"Wow that's a skull." Alana stated the obvious. She didn't know what else to talk about, and as he was holding it; the skull seemed like a perfect conversation starter.

Zach gave a small frown because his work was being interrupted. He was already frustrated before the female approached him because he was no closer to solving the murders than he was several hours ago. Memories of Angela giving him pointers on how to talk to people, more appropriately the opposite sex, told him not to lash out or tell this person to go away. Also his mother raised him with manners but being nice to people for the sake of propriety never really made sense to Zach. Logically, this female should know that she's interrupting him and continuing to humor her was counter-intuitive to his goals. Still, he did know that he should listen to the women in life when it comes to social interaction.

"Sorry, I know you're working but I couldn't help myself. It's just that I have never seen a skull so close before." Alana stated apologetically before he could reply and after noticing his small frown. At least he wasn't chewing her out.

Zach softened at her apology and rationally knew it was not her fault he wasn't getting anywhere. Whether she was there or not, he probably wasn't going to get any new ideas or clues from the skull or the other bones. He came to the conclusion that it did not make a difference whether or not he conversed with her.

"This is from a Caucasian male, approximately 25 years old, cause of death is stab to the heart and we're certain he was cannibalized." Dr. Addy rambled off; knowing as long as he didn't give specific names there was no harm in explaining his work to the civilian. His work he was much more comfortable talking about. Bones were one of his areas of expertise. Zach wondered if she would also be interested in knowing just exactly how unsound the construction of cars were.

Alana was more focused on the whole "…certain he was cannibalized" part of his presentation. She shook her head and hopefully the obvious dumb stuck look off her face. "Oh my God, you can tell if he was eaten? Who would even do such a thing?" She asked incredulously.

Zach had no idea how to answer the "who", because at the moment he had no idea. But the "how" was very simple to explain.

"See these marks here?"

The Reaper leaned in closer towards the skull to get a closer look at what the scientist was talking about. She noticed that there were shallow groves all over the skull but wasn't sure what exactly that meant.

"These are indentations of teeth marks dragging along the temporal, parietal, and frontal bones." Dr. Addy explained as he rotated the skull to show her exactly how many indentations there were on the skull. "There are also markings along the mandible…" Zach continued to prattle off all he knew about the former person he held in his hand with what Alana could only describe as a monotonous tone. While Alana began to become nauseous at the thought of a person eating another person, she started to wonder if Zach was going to be a graveling and management was fucking with them; because he seemed totally un-phased by the gruesome death.

Thankfully before the Dr. could go into more detail about the cannibalism, Denise came and rescued her.

Denise quickly skittered to her partner and Reap. This part of the ploy was to get out in a hurry but quickly touch the target somehow; usually with a "hello, fast handshake, and then goodbye because I'm in such a hurry but still polite" strategy. And that was exactly what Denise did. It wasn't so much an act because the other Dr.'s and male in a suit were right behind Alana's partner making sure the two females got out of the lab.

Dr. Addy's hands were occupied at the moment and he had no intention of putting the skull down. After an awkward attempt at shaking his hand in greeting, Denise resorted to a light punch in the arm. Totally lame and not their best work but it got the job done. As soon as Denise's fist made contact with Zach's arm, the telltale sign of a popped soul appeared. Only Reapers could see it; the ghostly yellow wisp trail off his body as if Denise dusted something off him.

It was done. His soul was popped and now they just had to wait for his death. It wasn't their best work but at least they got it done.

The Reapers needed to get out of the lab before any more questions could be asked of them. Before Dr. Brennan and her partner could question their intentions, both Reapers made a hasty exit.

As they were both quickly escorted out of the lab, Alana took a moment to look back at the unfortunate future victim. A pang of guilt blossomed in the pit of her stomach as she noticed Zach interact with a short curly haired male. Their body language and friendly smiles told her that they were friends; possibly best friends. She briefly hoped that whatever Zach did in his remaining hours made him happy. And that all his friends were able to have happy last memories him.

Alana again had to shake herself out of a reverie. Something about Zach Addy was making her wistful. She didn't know why because he was a Reap among many and many to come. Everyone gets a post-it, he is no different. Alana did sense something different about Zach though, something special about him. She had a fleeting thought about how she wished she could have met him under different circumstances. She had a feeling that he would have been somethin' else.

As Alana stepped out into the harsh bright August sun, she felt calmed for a moment. The hardest part was over; now it was waiting till he died and she hoped he didn't freak out too much.


	5. Chapter 5

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox, and all of their affiliates. I am making absolutely no money.

If anyone wishes to volunteer to beta this fic, please feel free to contact me.

The bright afternoon August sun shone directly into Alana's eyes as she stepped out of the Jeffersonian. Her job was done for the day and she didn't have another reap as far as she knew. The Dept's blackberry would message her if she was needed later on. The head Reaper of their group was pretty good at giving them plenty of notice as he did not want to deal with their bitching and moaning, so she wasn't concerned for the most part. Unexpected flairs of death were fairly rare and usually only occurred if a Reaper had fucked something up. So Alana was in the clear as far as she knew.

Assuming that was her first mistake.

The second was thinking her partner had finally tired of surprises, hence why the straightforward reap job.

To the left of her, Alana heard the familiar rustling of wind that indicated the hereafter's lights had arrived. She turned around confused as Denise's Reap wasn't supposed to die for another four hours or so. What she saw froze her on the spot and took her breath away.

The lights to the other side were specific to the people who were meant to go through them. Alana always thought they were so beautiful and was sometimes tempted to go through them herself. The portal was never blinding stark white lights as people have claimed; they were soft blues, creams, and an assortment of all colors. The lights glimmered gently as if they came from under the ocean. The gateway was always something peaceful and welcoming, even for those who were not good people. Alana surmised this was to attract the dead to go into the afterlife, no matter who the person was. The serene glow and illusion did not necessarily mean the person was going to heaven, just onward. Onward and upward the Reapers were told. Nothing more, nothing less. Where the dead went was not for them to know or to go. Irritating as hell, but it was something Alana had come to accept. She could only hope that bad people went on to punishment and good people were rewarded.

These particular lights showed a scene that seemed eerily familiar but she couldn't quite place where she knew it from. It was a wide open grass plane with a farmhouse and barn. A light wooded area behind the house completed the picture. The sight reminded her of those western novels about cowboys and a simple life. There were even a few wild horses galloping in the distance. Denise stood by the lights and Alana could see tears in her eyes. It dawned on her why the lights looked familiar. Denise had described a place exactly like it…when Denise was still alive.

"It's just like it was before the fire," Denise said in an emotion laden voice Alana had never heard from her partner before.

Alana was touched by the sentiment in her partner's voice as Denise spoke about her childhood home in Montana. The feeling was short lived as Alana realized what the lights meant.

"What the **fuck**, Denise?"

Her partner dropped her touching front and adopted her trademark smirk.

"Oh hey, by the way, he was my last Reap."

"Oh my god, I hate you so much."

There was no real venom in Alana's tone, but she didn't know what else to say. It's the kind of thing you could only really say to a true friend.

Alana really should have suspected Denise was up to something. Really, she should have. Alana's been Denise's partner and friend for the past two years, so dumping the news of her last Reap in such a fashion should have been predictable.

Alana's exclamation just made Denise smile even bigger. She loved to get a rise out of the other Reaper and she couldn't resist one last taunt before she went.

Alana immediately calmed down, because she was so used to these types of things from Denise. Sadness crept inside her as she realized that her friend was moving onward.

There really wasn't anything to say, not that Alana was in any position to say anything. She knew, as every seasoned Reaper did, that when the lights show up, it's time to go. So she did the first thing that felt natural to her; she hugged her friend and partner then said, "'bye"

"Try not to take unlife so seriously, you're already dead" and with that, Denise stepped into her lights and into parts unknown.

"Humph. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Alana said after the lights disappeared and nothing was left in its placed.

Deciding she looked like an idiot just standing there with wet eyes and a lost look, Alana chose to walk back to office head quarters.

It was a scorching August afternoon in DC and while it technically was only 90 degrees, with humidity it felt like the fiery pits of hell. Swampy fiery pits of hell, which is the worst type of fiery pit in Alana's opinion. She never knew muggy misery till she moved to DC and experienced her first summer. Despite the uncomfortable weather, Alana was in her own little world; contemplating what it meant to be a Reaper and when her own last Reap would be. She walked the six or seven blocks from the Jeffersonian on Smithson St. to the John F. Kennedy Department of Integrity Building on Constitution Ave. Six or seven blocks in a regular city was not much of a walk at all, but in DC a block is completely something different. There was some archaic law in DC that no building could be taller than the Washington Monument. So instead of building up, like most cities such as New York did, they built outward. So in the heart of DC, there were pretty much only government buildings that took up an insane amount of room and each building was its own block. So the JFK building was on Constitution Ave, Pennsylvania Ave, 10th **and** 9th street. It's a huge fucking building. So Alana had to take a small break to rehydrate at one of the many hot dog vendors that littered every corner of DC. While she was dead, that didn't mean she wanted to suffer the effects of dehydration. She's seen way too many tourist, Reaped a couple too, die from not getting enough water.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a recognizable dark blur; it was a graveling. She looked quickly around to see if she needed to get out of the way. If it was a death from her department then sometimes things got really messy. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary and wished she could sense other Reapers to see approximately where the death was going to be.

Reapers couldn't see gravelings head on, so looking for one was pointless. Alana just had to hope that the death had no spill over to mess up the rest of her day.

She didn't have to worry as an overweight male that just finished his third hotdog collapsed to the ground while holding his chest.

"_Ah, cardiovascular disease department_" she thought to herself as she walked away from the vendor with her bottle of water.

It may seem coldhearted to just stroll away from an ailing man, but in her line of work she didn't see any point. Death was inevitable and she knew that for a fact. Having insider information about death would make anyone blasé about the matter.

Alana finally made it to her building and swiped her security card. The annoying beep that sounded when the gadget worked chirped and the light turned green. She then went through the rotating turnstile that never quite went as fast as she wanted it to, letting her in the massive building. She was greeted with a blast of frigid air. The coldness felt exhilarating compared to the heat of outside, but she knew once her body adjusted she'd feel very cold soon. Government buildings never seemed to know how to regulate their heating/air conditioning systems. It, like DC weather itself, was either sweltering hot or freezing cold. It seemed wrong that Alana had to keep a sweater at her cubicle in the summer, but that's how it goes in DC.

The JKF building was a massive building, even by DC standards. The long hallways echoed with the click of Alana's heels and there seemed to be no end in sight. The deep blue marble gleaned in the light and ahead of her she could see the entrance to the courtyard. That was her favorite place to eat, weather permitting. There were black iron wrought tables with umbrellas to block out the harsh sun. But her favorite part would be the enormous fountain. She loved to sit back, relax, eat, and enjoy the soothing sounds of the rushing water.

Alana cut through the courtyard because it was the easiest way to get to the other side of JFK, rather than walking in the circles the building design had. She then came to the graphite colored elevators. The elevators were ancient with extravagant designs typical of the 1930's. She always took them despite their slowness and age because she always had this fear of falling down the unforgiving spiral marble staircases. Just because she knew she couldn't die didn't meant she didn't want to get hurt.

Alana made it to her destination, a non-descript wooden door with frosted glass window. One of the black name plates stated that it belonged to a Howard Fairground. Alana always wondered what her boss's real name was, but he was so old that he probably forgot it.

She let herself in, because she's been in the game so long that formalities such as knocking was a moot point. It's not like any other resident of the building ever had a reason to knock on his door.

The John F. Kennedy Department of Integrity Building housed the actual Dept of Integrity, which included the U.S. Attorney General and every person below him in the judicial hierarchy. Reapers took up an entire wing of the building and no one ever bothered them. It helped them to blend in with the crowd because others just assumed they were one of many of the government workers or contractors for DOI. Not only were the workers so self-centered in their own work to pay much attention to anything other than themselves, the mass of Reapers giving off the fog kept anyone else out that was curious.

Despite the grandeur of the rest of the building, the offices were a completely different experience. Bland sort-of green, kind-of blue carpet lined the floor. The tight threads made sure that the carpet could no way in any manner be considered soft or luxurious. As with everything in the government, carpeting when to the lowest bidder and it showed. The walls were not much better off because they were a dull off-white that someone had the gall to call cream. The desk that stood out in the middle of the room was made of some kind of quasi-wood that would never be found in nature, and put together with what Alana suspected was superglue and prayer. The only thing in the office that lent itself to the obvious position of power her boss had was the window. It was small and it let in the barest of light, because it faced a brick wall that was part of the courtyard, but damnit it was _his_ window.

Howard was busy looking at his computer and didn't pay any mind to Alana. He barely ever did to any of his Reapers, but Alana was sure he knew why she was there to see him. He gave out the assignments so he had to have known that Dr. Addy was Denise's last Reap.

Alana sat down in the guest chair in front of his desk and waited. Howard just kept tapping on his computer. Frustration curled in Alana as she was continually ignored despite her best evil eye. She knew it wasn't Howard's fault that Denise got her last Reap, but at least he could have told Alana it was. Denise was her partner after all.

Alana finally couldn't take it anymore and broke the silence.

"You couldn't have at least given me a hint that I was about to lose my partner?"

"Well I could have, but then I remembered I don't care" was his simple and sarcastic response. Still not look away from his computer.

"Ugh" was all Alana could get out. Seriously, the people she worked with.

Howard decided to take pity on one of his better Reapers.

"You know how Denise is; she wanted one last hurrah before she went. She told me not to tell you."

That was not surprising in the least to Alana. Because not only was she dumbfounded by the news, but now she was responsible for Dr. Addy's afterlife paperwork. So the joke was two-fold and now Alana wasn't sure why she thought Denise was such a good friend.

"By the way, she left you all her worldly possession including her all her money." Howard interrupted her self-pity nonchalantly.

"_Oh, that's right_" Alana thought to herself as she perked up at the news. Denise usually always made up her shitty behavior with something awesome. Alana could admit, if only to herself, that some of Denise's antics were pretty funny; as long as they weren't directed at her.

Howard threw a folder at her that contained all of the paperwork that granted Alana to Denise's legacy. There was a townhouse in Georgetown, some stocks, and a bank account that made Alana's eyes bug out. She had no idea Denise was sitting on this much dough. But then again Denise had been alive for over a hundred years. So Alana guessed her former partner was good with the money and collectibles she accumulated over the years.

There was also a picture. It was of the two of them after a particularly fun Reap. It was Halloween night and they both had masks on. It'd been years since any of them were in contact with someone that might recognize their pre-death face but it never hurt to be too careful. They were dressed up as harlequin princesses. Alana was dressed in a gorgeous green intricate gown that was true to the period. The mask was just as elaborate. Sequins and crystals glittered magically all over the dress. Denise was in a more flamboyant pink, with a matching design. They had to crash a party, hence why they dressed up. After Alana Reaped the party-goer, poor bastard was murdered by a guy dressed up as a butler; they stayed and danced the night away. It took several drinks, but they had a beautiful buzz going on. Sometimes Alana forgot how fun unlife could be, but Denise was always there to remind her.

Alana flipped the picture over and saw that there was writing. In Denise's erratic scrawl it said "Death is no excuse to stop living life."

Tears welled up in Alana's eyes and she cried the tears she denied herself before. Her friend was gone and she was going to miss her something fierce.

Howard looked at his Reaper and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. There was just something about a crying woman that he just couldn't stomach. He wasn't without a heart though and he knew how tough it was to lose someone. That kind of pain doesn't go away, no matter how many deaths they saw on a daily basis. It's something completely different when it's someone they knew. Fairgrounds got up from his seat and offered Alana a tissue. She gratefully took it and wiped her eyes.

Howard went back to his desk and typed in a few more things. Alana just wanted to take the computer and throw it against the wall. She wished the bloody things were never invented. She missed the days when people had no choice but to talk to each other face to face. Now it was easy to hide away as technology kept advancing to the point that people didn't have to be anywhere near each other to communicate.

Apparently August 14th was National Asshole Day because everyone seemed to want to blindside Alana that day.

Howard got his shot in by saying, "Oh, by the way. The kid will be your new partner, so it's your responsibility to collect him and then show him the ropes. Mazel Tov."

There was a pregnant pause as the news sunk in. Everything in Alana's lap had fallen to the flow in her shock.

There was only one thing she could say at the moment.

"What the **fuck**, Howard?"


	6. Chapter 6

Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.

No money what so ever is, or will be, made from this fanfiction.

If anyone wishes to volunteer to beta this fic, please feel free to contact me.

Zach left the Jeffersonian disappointed. He did not discover any new evidence in the Gormogon case. He didn't expect to, but was troubled that further evidence would probably come in the form of another victim.

Dr. Addy was not one for metaphors, since they seldom held any logic to them, but he was starting to understand "…a dark cloud had settled over him." He has read the quote in countless books and in various forms, but today was the first time he could relate to the phrase. When he first read the expression, it did not make sense to him. Clouds were nothing more than visible masses of water droplets or frozen crystals suspended in air. It was impossible for them to focus in one particular place due to a person's personal unfortunate circumstances _and_ then to actually follow someone was to suggest sentience. It was basically an impossible scenario. While he knew his logic was sound, he could admit that it was an accurate portrayal of how he was feeling at the moment. Zach had an inexplicable uneasiness that he couldn't shake off. Sensibly he knew there was no reason for his ill humor. The day was basically like every other day. He doesn't always get the key evidence, and sometimes not for weeks; but today was different and he could not figure out why. This did not sit well with him because it disturbed his routine and it was not something he was accustomed to feeling. He had an 165+ I.Q., he should be able to figure out anything. This was not the case as Zach felt out of sorts all afternoon.

Zach knew Booth thought he didn't have feelings, but he does. Not being able to express emotions does not denote the lack of them. In fact, a lot of what Booth says about him causes an uncomfortable sensation in the vicinity of his abdomen. Zach had related such findings to Hodgins and his friend indicated that it was what normal people called "stinging." Booth's words stung and Zach did not know how to tell the agent this. Zach had no clue to where to even begin to express feelings to people he didn't like, much less to someone he greatly admired and respected. Seeley has never made his position about the genius ambiguous. Zach was not sure what hurt more: That Seeley thought him an unfeeling robot or that Booth didn't even give him the courtesy of at least waiting till he was out of earshot to insult him. Booth was under the assumption that Zach was oblivious to his barbs, but the fact was Zach had no idea what to do with his hurt. He wasn't the type for violence and he had no idea how to articulate feelings. Feelings were completely subjective and therefore no way to convey them in the manner in which he was accustomed to; scientifically. Rationally Zach knew that everyone was entitled to their opinion and therefore he should take the agents descriptions of him as such. Just because Seeley thought Zach a "weirdo" did not make him so. But rational thought did not stop the empty feeling forming within him every time Booth dismissed him. It didn't stop when he was a child being out casted by other children, not in high school when words became physical assaults, and definitely not into adulthood when supposedly everyone was to outgrow their immaturity; Zach just found more of the same. Booth's words made the emptiness grow bigger because he was someone Zach held in high esteem. Despite all the threats of bodily harm and indifferent attitude, he still wanted Booth to accept him. Accept him in a way that no other male had ever done in his life. Zach was not oblivious to Booth's attempt at distancing himself away. Dr. Addy was well aware that males did not bond in complete silence and the occasional light punch in the arm gesture. Zach was at a point where he'd take any type of acceptance, real or not.

Zach was not oblivious to social norms; he just wasn't good at following them. He couldn't see the logic in behaving in an irrational way because the majority of people did. He didn't believe that made him less than human or less deserving of common courtesy. While Zach was completely rational to the point of seeming pompous, there was never any malicious intent. If Zach believed in wishes, and he didn't as they were completely irrational because no higher being existed to make desires come to fruition for no other reason other than they felt like it, he'd wish he knew the secret to being "normal." He wanted to be like his siblings, as they seemed to have no trouble interacting with others. They could look people in the eye without the compulsion to look away. They could read social situations and act accordingly without stilted effort. There wasn't this great mystery, for them, about knowing when someone says something but mean something else. They never had to see specialist and be made to feel different. They never had to hear their parents whisper "Asperger's" or "autism" then treat them as if they were defective. They were all able to find mates and produce children. Booth would probably be surprised, but one of Zach's goals in life was to find an appropriate partner and father children. He wanted to recreate the family atmosphere that he grew up in by having several progeny with his life mate. He wanted a loving family of his own. He thought it would be a fairly easily objective to attain as he felt he was a male of worth. He made plenty of money and could support a wife and 4.5 children considering inflation and the typical expenses that child rearing incurred; more children if his hypothetical wife also worked. He was also highly educated and while most of society seemed to all but exile the intellectual elite, he was sure he could find someone close enough to his level to be happy with; not a huge dating pool as his intelligence was far superior than most of the human population, but all he wanted was **one** female. He knew his physical appearance left a lot to be desired by society's standards but he was stronger than he looked. His physique was more of the compact variety, so if ever tested he was sure he could pass any physical test. While the army did not pan out, that was more due to inability to fit in than lack of physical prowess.

Despite all these admirable qualities, he was lacking in the love life department. He has only had one on-again off-again girlfriend in the past three years and that was Naomi from paleontology. He really did not understand the thought process of that particular female. She was adamant that he was lacking something in the bedroom, but wouldn't tell him what it was. He asked Hodgins and Booth about some pointers, but the former just gave him a book on Kama Sutra and the latter threatened him with death. Both were not very helpful. Zach had tried some of the techniques in the erotic tome, but nothing seemed to please Naomi. Without further input from her, which was not forthcoming, then he was at a standstill as to what to do. She refused to see him on a regular basis unless it was some sort of function that required a date. Instead of going stag, Naomi would always ask Zach to come. Sexual intercourse would ensue later on but Naomi would also criticize his "performance." While Zach usually welcomed constructive criticism, as he thought it helped him become better at whatever he was doing, she never actually told him what he was doing wrong. His limited interactions with other females have led him to believe that they were all exasperating creatures with little to no logic.

Except Dr. Brennan: the beautiful, smart, cool, absolutely logical Temperance Brennan. Zach had always hoped for something to develop between them, but it was not happening; at least not yet. Zach believed the two had many things in common and while Dr Brennan had mentioned Booth to be the good breeder, Zach thought he would be one to. With their vast intellects, earning capacity, and acceptable physiques they could have very viable offspring. Zach did not delude himself into thinking one day she would inexplicably be attracted to him, but that she would logically surmise he would be a suitable mate.

His train of thoughts quickly derailed as a familiar fear replaced his assessment of his and Dr. Brennan's non-existent relationship as he climbed into Hodgins's Mini-Cooper.

After years of carpooling, he was still frightened to get into a car. They really were unsafe, and he just didn't understand why no one would listen to him about the unsound engineering of vehicles. The logical part of his brain said people needed cars to get around more efficiently was usually ignored as dread overtook all rational thought.

Through his terror he could make out Hodgins trying to conversate with him.

"Zach, my man. Do not wait up for me tonight, have a hot date with Angela." Hodgins said all smiles and cocky attitude.

"When have I ever waited up for you and what does temperature have to do with the date? Is it because it's August?

Jack gave a small laugh at the genuine confusion of his best friend. Jack didn't know why he couldn't help himself from using metaphor, but it was just a natural inclination to do so. His friend was unable to differentiate normal conversation and colloquialisms, so more often than not, Jack had to interpret his speech.

"Never mind, just don't enter the main house. **At all**."

Jack emphasized his last thought as he turned into his estate. He still had a few minutes till he reached the garage AKA Zach's apartment.

Jack continued, "Also, you will have to take your garbage out to the main dumpster. No taking it to the kitchen for the cleaning service. No watching Firefly instead. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time."

"In my defense, I had a busy work week and the garbage didn't get that bad."

"Zach, it was garbage the first two weeks you left it out. By the time I saw it, it was Darwinism. If I didn't know better, I would think you were growing some kind of new strain of mold to conduct bioterrorism."

"That doesn't make sense; I have a degree in engineering, not biology. I'd have to study a whole new specialty to adequately manage such an endeavor. If I was going to terrorize America; I'd break down all their modes of transportation and lines of communication. America would then go into complete anarchy, naturally self-destruct, and all I would have done is put my degree of engineering to good use."

Hodgins quickly turned to at Zach, a little bewildered. He wasn't sure what was scarier: Zach's nonchalant exclamation of how he'd destroy America or that he could really do it. Jack chose to ignore the comment and continue.

"After you take out the garbage, then you are not come to the house or disturb me in any way. I'm making Angela an über-romantic dinner and she's going to stay the night. I don't know how to explain to you why it's important, just know that it is." Hodgins said the last part cutting off the question he knew Zach would have.

Zach closed his mouth as the question he had was not going to be answered.

They finally arrived at the garage and as Hodgins's parked his mini next to an antique Porche Roadster, he turned to Zach. "Do not disturb me for any reason. I don't care if there's a fire; you fall down and can't get up; if you figured out a new way to become Kind of the Lab. _**Nothing**_. Not even if you're being murdered; do not ruin this night for me. Do you understand?"

Zach knew Jack was being serious because of his friend's superfluous use of hand gestures. He was once told that any erratic body movement signaled distress and high emotions. It puzzled Zach greatly to have such reactions to emotions, but Zach nodded his head in understanding. He didn't understand the exact reason why he wasn't allowed in the house (Angela was one of the few females, besides his mother and sisters, that seemed to like his company) but he understood that he wasn't welcomed that night. He'd find some way to entertain himself, perhaps with a marathon of the aforementioned sci-fi series.

Satisfied with Zach's answer Hodgins exited his car, shut the door, and hurried to the house to get ready.

Jack didn't know that was the last time he'd see his best friend and would come to regret his words.


	7. Chapter 7

Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.

No money what so ever is, or will be, made from this fanfiction.

If anyone wishes to volunteer to beta this fic, please feel free to contact me.

Alana sat in her cubicle, completely at a loss with what to do with herself. She tried to keep herself busy with all the back logged paperwork she had accumulated. She tracked where her recent Reaps died, what their last thought and words were, and time of their actual death vs. their estimated time of death (ETD). It was boring red tape that a monkey could do but it paid the bills. While she would bitch and moan about how little she had to do most of the time, she was grateful for the relatively easier time she had in DC than in other areas she had Reaped in. DC was the only town where Reaper's got an office and paid for what they did. Still, her gratefulness could not dilute the amount of anxiety she was feeling now.

"How the hell am I supposed to mentor a complete noob? How is he going to handle being dead? What if he tries to run away and I can't find him? What if he's completely incompetent at Reaping? Sure, he's super smart, but that might not translate into Reaping. He's an effing murder victim, how is he going to handle that? How am I going to handle that? What if I can't handle this?"

All of these thoughts ran nervously through her head and she was sure others were noticing. She was typing at a breakneck speed and had a very tense look on her face. She could feel her heart pulsating in her chest as nervous adrenaline coursed through her body. She has never had to collect a Reaper before and has never mentored. She knew she'd have to do it eventually but even after forty-one years of Reaping, it seemed too soon. Alana guessed she'd been living in a quasi-denial about the whole subject. She always put mentoring at the back of her mind because it was something that would happen in the future. Well the future is now and she felt totally unprepared.

All too soon she was caught up on all her paperwork. Her desk was spotless and most of the other Reapers were out in the field. So basically there was nothing to keep her from her thoughts. She gave into her own self-doubt and just slumped onto her desk.

She was completely and utterly lost at the moment. Her friend and mentor was gone, so she didn't have anyone to talk to. Most of the other Reapers were Reaping and the few that were in the office she either didn't know or like; Such as Channing, the creepy lone Reaper who killed herself a year ago. Alana looked up briefly to see the Reaper in question. There she was, Channing Eleanor Abernathy: Died circa 2009, age 23, overdosed on pills. Not much else is known about the lone black woman, as she constantly kept to herself. And if she ever did talk, it was only about obscure shows from England that most people had no idea existed. It's as if she never had anything interesting to say, so she only talked about the lives of imaginary people. Alana tried to talk to her once, but that didn't go so well. While Alana was willing to talk about favorite shows, she couldn't talk about them for hours on end as if she was living it. There was also the issue of the young Reaper's maturity level. While Channing died at 23, Alana would have suspected it was 14 with the way Channing dealt with things. When Howard tried to give Channing constructive criticism on one of her Reaps, the female just shut down and withdrew from the world. The office didn't see what the big deal was, since all Fairgrounds was trying to do was help her out. Some people just can't be reasoned with. Howard then pawned off supervising Channing to Denise but that didn't go over well either. It seemed as if Channing was totally unable to hear anything negative about herself. Alana supposed that was why the other Reaper eventually killed herself; can't live in the real world if one can't handle reality.

So Channing was one of the few Reapers who did solo work as no other Reaper wanted to be her partner.

So Channing was out and all Alana could really do was beat herself over the head till it was time to collect Dr. Addy. And that is what she did. She slumped back down and hit her head to her desk over and over again with insecure thoughts crossing her mind.

"_How am I going to do this?_ I _shouldn't have been so competent at my job! They only give extra responsibility to the hard workers, __**never**__ the slackers. Maybe I ought to take a page out of Channing's book. Maybe if I throw a tantrum and pout a lot, Howard will change his mind."_

Alana rolled her eyes at her own thoughts because she would never stoop to such childish antics. She quickly eyed the female and knew her mother would roll over in her grave if she ever behaved that way in public.

Thinking of her mother strengthened her resolved. Alana was going to take this challenge head on and do the best she can. She took a deep breath and let it out. Now was not the time to freak out and break down. It was a time for action; Zachary Uriah Addy was now her responsibility and she had work to do.

She started to make phone calls and all the necessary arrangements.

**2 Hours Later**_…_

"What the FUCK do you mean he's still not there?"

Howard was startled at the loud exclamation but smiled when he realized it must be Alana on the phone with the DMV. He shook his head and laughed; he was really glad he had underlings to deal with new Reapers.

Fairgrounds ears perked up to hear the rest of the conversation. He was due for some entertainment. He couldn't make out what the person on the other line was saying, only the muffled white noise people made when they were loud enough to hear but not be understood. From the ranting of Alana, Stuart from the Plague Division was being scarce to annoy his fellow Reaper. Howard didn't blame the poor bastard. Stuart had been around since the 14th century and with the advancement of medicine, he wasn't able to Reap any souls in a long time. So to alleviate the boredom of his painfully long life, the Reaper liked to fuck around with his undead coworkers.

"Yes, I'm aware it's after hours but he knows that he's supposed to be around for _special orders_."

Whatever the answer to that was, Alana was not happy about it.

"Well you tell Stu that he can go fuck himself, and that I need a special order and to expect me tomorrow!"

With that, Alana slammed down her phone and didn't wait for an answer. Howard knew that Stu would come through and most likely the obnoxious Reaper was listening in on the conversation.

"_I swear to God, if I find a way to re-kill a Reaper I will. I will then torch the DMV and we shall all be free from its wretched tyranny_."

Alana took a few minutes to indulge in some dark revenge fantasies, mostly involving fire and dancing on Stuart's grave. She returned to her work a lot happier.

Thankfully the Reapers in the Social Security Office and Vital Statistics Administration were a lot more accommodating. Alana was able to procure Zach Addy a social security number and birth certificate respectively.

Alana breathed a sigh of relief as she was able to get the major things for Zach ready in time when he got his new physical body. She just hoped the douchbag from the Plague Division didn't give him a stupid name like Hart Hanson or something impossible to pronounce like Boreanaz. The DMV, SSO and VSA all collaborated with each other to make sure everything matched. Alana did her part by putting the order in. If Zach didn't like the name given to him then he'd have to deal with getting all his new documentation on his own because she refused to deal with the DMV and its hellish never ending queue if she didn't have to.

Alana looked at her watch and noted it was six-thirty. She decided to leave as it was still rush hour and she needed to get somewhere that was about twenty minutes away. So, in DC traffic that would definitely take over an hour. She should make it in time to collect his soul right as he died. She just hoped that his killer didn't decide to kill him off earlier.

"_Ugh, I'm not even his mentor yet and I'm already failing at his undead life_."

Alana rushed out of the office to meet Zach and introduce him to his new unlife.


	8. Chapter 8

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. \**

**All original content is fictitious and any resemblances to people (living or undead), places, or events are purely coincidental. **

Gravelings were misunderstood entities, much like Reapers were. While they had a job people resented, it was a job that had to be done regardless. Gravelings were the mostly unseen masterminds behind all deaths. They didn't choose who died, like the Reapers they were given orders. These orders did not come on a neat little post-it or email. The orders were given to them in the form of an instinct. They saw the world in shades of gray and smoke. The ones who were meant to die were the only flash of color in their world. Those who stood out were the ones destined to be put to death. Gravelings compulsively sought out those who glowed. To them, any color other than black, white, or gray had to die.

Humanity hated and feared death; in turn they hated and feared Reapers and gravelings. Despite knowing that death was inevitable, humans went into this almost pathological denial that it could not happen to them. Or it wasn't meant for them till they were very old and "ready" to die. As if anyone could really prepare themselves for the end of everything they knew and into something far beyond their comprehension. Some might get close enough to acceptance, if they knew well in advanced they were going to definitely die such as a terminal illness; or particularly religious and felt they were bound for a better existence; but even then there is that lingering doubt and fear.

That denial was the downfall of Zach Addy. The last thing on his mind was when he was going to die, much less be murdered. Despite working on a case of a serial killer with a subjective system of picking victims, he never once thought he could be chosen. He thought him only an observer of death, never in its cross-hairs.

He went about every compulsive routine he had when he got home from work. He changed from his recently required business casual suit to his lounge clothes. The type of attire he used to wear as a grad student. He walked around his surprisingly large garage apartment in his favorite jeans, a maroon polo with a black skull screened design over a gray long sleeved shirt. While he was passionate about what he did, as passionate as he could ever get about anything, he did wish he didn't have to dress so uncomfortably. He was much more at ease in his street clothes than the suit and tie he had to wear. He understood the explanation of why he had to dress up; Angela explained to him that a jury would believe his testimony more if he looked like a "grown up." Zach didn't understand why his state of dress mattered. Science was science and what he wore didn't change the facts. He relented because while it wasn't logical, Angela was correct in her assertion. The general public had a preconceived notion of what a scientist/expert witness looked like and if he didn't look like that then they wouldn't treat him as such. So gone were the days of chucks, jeans, and t-shirts at the lab. He now wore tailored suits that did not feel right on him. He didn't know why the other form of dress was so uncomfortable but he felt more relaxed in jeans and a t-shirt. Perhaps it was due to dressing in more or less the same fashion since he was young. No one cared what he wore in high school through grad school. Change was never something he was comfortable doing; he always preferred to stick to a routine if possible.

As he plopped down on his navy blue squishy couch with a Yuengling, he grabbed the remote and turned on his current favorite TV program. He unconsciously ran a hand threw his hair; what was left of it anyway. Another thing he missed about being a grad student was his longer hair. He knew hair was nothing more than dead cells of keratin that constantly grew but he missed those dead cells. He felt his mop of brown hair made him unique. He was the only one in the office with that type of hair and it was his. He also didn't like the new practice of going to the stylist to get his hair trimmed every two weeks. He didn't want people touching him in such a way and he didn't like to go to such populated places if he didn't have to. The salon was just another place he felt he didn't belong and that the other patrons knew he didn't belong. He belonged in the lab or in the field collecting data. He dreaded having to get his hair cut but it was something he knew he had to do. No matter what impulse he had to avoid the hair cuttery at all costs, he managed to ignore that compulsion. It helped that Hodgins usually accompanied him.

So as he settled in to his normal schedule of: watching some programming, he would later make himself some mac an' cheese, read, then retire to bed.

Unbeknownst to him, a graveling skulked around his apartment. Eying him like prey, the graveling never let Zach out of his sight. He knew the glowing human was not long for this world and that he had to make sure his target was where he needed to be. His brother gravelings were doing their part in compelling the other humans to kill. Gravelings did not have sentimental notions of right or wrong. They only knew to be at a certain place and how to set into motion the target's demise.

In some dark recess of his mind, the graveling remembered once being human. He remembered doing bad things, not sure what. There was an incident with him and another male. One moment he was alive and the next he was crawling out of his own body, a completely different creature. He saw the world with no color and any color there was had to be destroyed. He had no more questions, no more doubts, and no more insecurity. He followed his instincts. If he felt compelled to trip someone, he did it. To break something, whisper in someone ear, loosen a screw, knock something over; he did them all. All of his instincts led to the death of someone and that was what was meant to be. He wasn't mean or cruel, he just was. He never discriminated between: young or old, male or female. They all fell unto his tricks and they all ended up dead. It was Death's Plan and who was he to mess with it? He hated Reapers who thought they knew better but all they did was delay the inevitable. Sometimes making the graveling's job harder because of unseen consequences of "saving" a target. Death's Plan was not to be ignored or messed with.

He saw the other male over the years; touching humans that glowed. The graveling caused trouble for the male, mostly because he could. What else was he going to do with is existence when he wasn't putting death's plan into motion? The male eventually went away and all he knew was his life as a graveling.

His job now was to make sure the glowing male on the couch went outside, where the male would be in the hands of a serial killer.

Where no one would hear his struggle because the owner of the house was busy with his female. Because the marked had no other family, friend, or a female of his own to keep him company. Because no one would miss him till the next morning. Till it was too late.

Just as Death planned.

The graveling stalking Zach was getting antsy. His job was to make sure that Zach was in the right place at the right time. It wasn't hit duty to cause his death. It was one of the more interesting assignments because the graveling knew the other graveling working the case. Said graveling was permanently attached to a human till the human himself died. And then he went to the killer's heir apparent to keep the killing cycle alive.

So the graveling watched his mark; waiting for the right time to influence Zach to go where he needed the Reap to be. The graveling felt it wasn't time yet…but soon. Very soon.

_Not very far away…_

Alana stood in the tail end of DC rush hour. The commute was quicker than she thought it would be. She was only a couple blocks away from her destination and already knew it was going to be a ritzy neighborhood. All the houses were huge brick monstrosities that were very different from the row and town houses typical of DC. Even with stop and go traffic she made it to the wealthy suburb of Bethesda in plenty of time to collect Dr. Addy.

"_I ought to start thinking of him as Zach. He'll be working with me soon and he'd probably prefer to be called by his first name outside his profession_." Alana thought idly to herself as she parallel parked outside an unassuming brick house. No one would suspect a serial killer lived there, or at least killed there. Alana didn't know anything about the killer as that was not pertinent information. She just hoped she didn't run into him because if he "killed" her because she happened to be around to witness something, then that meant a pain in the ass round at the morgue. Acting dead and then trying to escape the morgue, harder than one would think. In morgues, it's very obvious who is and isn't supposed to be there.

Alana got nostalgic and remembered the time she and Denise got caught in a gang crossfire in South East DC on MLK Blvd during a Reap. Bullets sting like hell. Thankfully neither had their ID on them as they didn't need it for their job so the medics couldn't identify them. It was quite the spectacle trying to escape body bags in a cold morgue and not get caught. It involved a lot of laying very still and small movements. Alana was very grateful neither of them were priorities on the coroner's autopsy list. Apparently, bullet wounds were an easy cause of death to figure out. So they were left alone in body bags waiting for the coroner to go home for the day. This was a particularly boring endeavor and Denise nearly blew it when she sneezed. Alana kept imagining the coroner being very confused as to where the sneeze came from and had a very hard time not laughing at the thought. A giggle escaped now and then and the poor coroner had never been more freaked out in his life. He even prodded a couple body bags, including Alana's, to make sure all bodies were indeed dead. It took all of Alana's self control to not move and appear dead as the coroner checked her. She passed the test though. No pulse and riddle with bullet holes that he thought were bigger but had to have been mistaken. Dead bodies don't heal and alive ones not that quickly. The ragged doctor brushed it off as a long day and went home early. The two Reapers finally made their escape and laughed about the ordeal on the way home. All the while retching out bullets as their Reaper bodies healed.

Alana turned off her car and sat in almost total darkness. The street lamps did not seem to shine where she was so it was the perfect hiding spot. She leaned back her seat a bit to give herself a lower profile. Now it was the waiting game.

Zach Addy's ETD was coming up soon and Alana used her time to remember the good times with Denise.

_Back at Zach's apartment_

Zach was now into the first half hour of his program. He never made many motions or any other general indication that he was thoroughly enjoying the show but he was. His stillness and lack of facial expressions were not indicative of his feelings. He was just a calm, cool, and collected kind of guy; it didn't mean he didn't care or wasn't having a good time. His mind worked faster than his body, so it might be said if it slowed down he would be more socially accepted.

So while he enjoyed Caprica he got the sudden urge to take out the trash. This confused him a bit as he normally "forgot" to do so. He knew Hodgins really wanted him to take it out on time but Jack always nagged him about the trash. Zach's normal routine was to completely forget about the trash in lieu of watching his science fiction shows. Zach was quite puzzled at his sudden inexplicable urge to do what Hodgins asked.

The graveling whispering in his ear was getting frustrated that the human was not taking his suggestions easily. Normally humans just accepted the gravelings compulsions and went merrily to their death. This human was so logical that he questioned his own urges if they weren't his normal ones. The graveling was on a deadline and kept pushing the suggestions frantically.

Zach was started to get uncomfortable with his urge to take out the garbage. While out of the ordinary, he finally gave in to the graveling he wasn't aware of. He grabbed the two very full bags of garbage sitting in his kitchen. He decided to leave the half full bag in the bin because he thought it illogical to take out a bag that wasn't full. He then trudged down the stairs and over to the main house. It was a bit of a walk because the Hodgin's estate was expansive. Zach saw that the lights were on and remembered Jack's warning of disturbing him and Angela.

Logically he knew that Angela would never turn him away, as she was one of the only people on the planet that was consistently nice to him. They were friends and friends were happy to see each other. The other logical part of him knew that couples wanted alone time together away from their friends. So he did not go into the house per Jack's orders. He did see them through the windows though. He was in the shadows outside the kitchen unseen by Jack and Angela. He saw them smiling and sharing a meal. Zach didn't understand why they were in the kitchen eating. Hodgins had an expansive formal dining room with a proper table.

An intimate meal between lovers, feeding each other a homemade meal; the romance was lost on Zach but he could see the love between the two. Although love was really just a chemical process that was meant to attach mates to each other to better ensure the survival of the other, and whatever offspring they produced, he knew love was a real immeasurable thing science could never fully touch. An emotion he could say he felt between him and his family. Although they thought him weird and he thought them a bit slow, he loved his family. But he had never felt what he saw between Angela and Jack. There was shining in their eyes that he didn't see before they got together. There was something very subtle in the way Jack smiled nowadays. He knew it had something to do with Angela.

"_I wonder if I'll ever smile like that._"

That was Zach's last thought as someone grabbed him from behind. He didn't have time to scream or struggle. The sickly sweet smell that invaded his nose told him it was chloroform. The last thing he saw before he passed out was a sweet kiss between Jack and Angela.

Marcus Geier couldn't believe he did it. He did as the Master asked and grabbed Dr. Zach Addy. He would bring the forensic scientist to his Master and finalize his place as the Apprentice. It would be his first kill and was glad it would be the squint. He couldn't stand Zach Addy. The arrogant Dr. from the Smithsonian always thought he was so much better than him. The whole Medico-Legal Lab team thought they were better than the FBI. They do like one or two cases a month and they feel like they're so much better than the others. Marcus was good at his job and hated when Addy would come onto the crime scene. Act as if no other SCI tech knew what they were doing. Acting as if it's his crime scene and no one else's.

Marcus couldn't help but grin as he dragged the unconscious scientist to the van outside the compound. As a FBI tech he was decked head to toe in his protective gear. He wouldn't leave any trace evidence of his person. He had on his cover all and protective footwear. They might get foot imprints and drag marks but they wouldn't be linked to him. Temperance Brennan might be some super genius when it came bones, but they wouldn't find any...until his Master sent them to complete the statue. They thought they could get away with stealing the masterpiece but it would be completed. Zach would help complete it.

Soon Zach Addy would be very much a part of a crime scene and Marcus knew the Jeffersonian team would not be able to solve this case.

The heart of the team would be gone.

The smile never left Marcus's face as he got into the passenger seat of his nondescript vehicle. It was one of many like it on the road. No one would remember seeing it if they saw it and no one would be able to point it out among the others. He was going to get his first kill in and make the world a better place. Tonight he would dine on flesh. His body hummed with anticipation as he drove off into the night and towards his Master's house.

Alana sat idly in her car waiting for the ETD. It was approaching very quickly and wasn't sure what she should be looking for. Would he be in the house? In the shed? The house looked rather big so it'd be easy to kill someone there and then cover it up. The neighbors were fairly far apart and the house looked like it was built thick and sturdy. Would Zach Addy scream? Beg for mercy? Would anyone hear his cries?

A problem quickly made itself clear when she realized she wasn't sure how she'd get his soul after he died. The Reap would be at this address but she couldn't get in. He was going to be murdered. She was sure the killer wouldn't just let her into his house to collect the invisible soul of a man he just murdered.

"Crap! What the fuck am I supposed to do? This is the worst Reap ever." she said thought sullenly as she lightly pounded her head against the steering wheel. She really wished Denise had told her earlier of this Reap. She could have planned it better. Now all she could do was sit back and hope for the best.

Soon she heard a car drive up to the house. She quickly ducked back as the lights from the car crossed over her. She shrunk down even further, keeping house in sight. The car stopped not far from her and she was worried she'd be caught. As the unknown person worked around the van and Alana heard a dragging sound that she knew was a body. She dared to peak her head up further to see a white male dragging the unconscious body of Dr. Addy through the gate and into the house.

Alana suddenly felt stupid because she knew Reapers had a natural defense against being noticed. She sat up completely and watched Zach being lugged to his doom.

The first thing Dr. Addy noticed was a horrible smell. It jolted him out of darkness and he was suddenly very awake. He was very confused as to where he was. He was shirtless and tied in a very peculiar position. His hand was tied to his left and forced his body to a curved position. There was something familiar about the way he was tied and he racked his brain to remember. He took in his surroundings. He was in some sort of basement lit with the soft glow of many candles. It looked to be some sort of religious room. Neat white tiled floor, wrought iron candelabra decorated around what looked to be an alter.

A deep furrow donned his brow as this was beyond anything he's experienced. His heartbeat started to accelerate and he began to perspire. He knew he has been kidnapped. He was forcefully taken from his home and placed somewhere else in a precarious position. It didn't take his 165+ genius IQ level to figure out he was not in a good situation. He had no shirt, why would they take his shirt? He then noticed two males in the room and one of them had tossed away what Zach would assume was the smelling salts to awaken him. Both were fairly short for males, approximately 1.7 meters, 30-45 years old with dark hair and wearing black robes. They reminded Zach of monks, with hoods and simple ropes tied around their waists.

The first male Zach did not recognize. He had short pitch black hair and a slight stubble on his face. There was something unsettling about his eyes. Dark as his hair and seemingly fathomless. As if he was completely empty inside. Zach knew couldn't be possible since he knew the male had flesh, bones, and organs behind his eyes. Just like everyone did to a certain extent. But Zach couldn't help the sinking feeling inside him, telling him that this man was a very bad man. A dangerous man.

The raven haired male looked Zach up and down and anxiety grew inside him. He felt as if his life was in danger. He knew he should scream, struggle, do something. His fight or flight instinct should have kicked in by now. Any scream died in his throat before it ever made itself known.

The graveling he couldn't see held his throat, killing any scream he would have. Zach's fate was to die and nothing was going to get in the way of that.

The graveling on the Master's shoulder had to hold him back from stabbing the tied up Dr. It wasn't for him to make the death blow but he really wanted to. After years of killing, he didn't need the graveling any longer. The graveling's job was no longer to compel Gormogon to kill but to keep him from killing those without color.

The graveling on Marcus's shoulder on the other hand was encouraging him incessantly. Has been for days. It was almost time to let him loose and Marcus was ready. He had been ready for some time, it was just a matter of the _right_ time. Marcus looked into the scared eyes of Dr. Addy and knew it was supposed to be him. It was fate. Marcus was meant to kill Dr. Addy. The Master was meant to meet Marcus at that forensic convention and reveal to him the truth. The truth of it all. The corrupt societies of old that still were alive today. They were the wielders of fate and Zach was one sacrifice for the good of many. They would take him into their bodies and complete the statue. It had been done for centuries and will continue on. Marcus would become a Master one day and take his own Apprentice.

"I know you" Zach said suddenly.

Marcus was not surprised. They had crossed each other's path many times. Marcus reveled in Zach's fear. The young Dr. no longer had a look of superiority or sense of priority over the other. Tied up and put on display, Zach looked like every other one of their sacrifices. Would he taste the same?

Each victim had their distinct flavor. The violinist was very tender and sweet. The priest was a bit dry and very salty. So far, the lobbyist was his favorite. Fat in all the good places, well marbled if he was so inclined to describe.

Zach, he thought, would probably taste the best of them all. Underneath Zach's lab coat hid a compact and fairly defined chest. The Dr. was stronger than he let on. Marcus couldn't wait to sink his teeth in him.

Marcus looked to his Master and saw pride shining in his Master's eyes. He was ready.

The Master yielded the ceremonial athame, glinting in the candle light. Impossibly sharp and coming to a pinprick point. The blade felt heavier than it looked and right in his hand.

Zach's breathing became fast and heavy. He still couldn't scream but looked around the room. Trying to look for something, anything that could help him. In his panic he started to hallucinate. That's the only way he could justify seeing a small ape like creature on the shoulder of Marcus Geirer every time he looked away from the FBI tech. He could never quite see the little demon with evil red eyes cloaked in smoke head on.

The graveling smiled slightly at the soon to be Reaper, knowing the Reap was starting to see what only the undead could see. He gave the final order to kill and his job was done.

Without much more thought Marcus plunged the dagger straight into Zach Addy's chest, right into the heart.


	9. Chapter 9

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction.**

**All original content is fictitious and any resemblances to people (living or undead), places, or events are purely coincidental.**

**Anyone who wishes to beta this fic, please feel free to contact me.**

**I'd like to give a shout out to Kent Rigel, Random, Rob, and Lily. Your reviews are awesome and very much appreciated.**

The movement was so abrupt Zach wasn't sure it actually happened. He looked down and he saw the dagger protruding from his naked chest; blood pouring out of the wound freely and making a mess. The blade was thin and went in smoothly. Zach was surprised at the amount of blood that could flow from a small puncture.

Shock. He must me in shock as he didn't register pain. Reasonably he knew he should feel pain. Being stabbed should hurt but at the moment he could only feel disbelief; disbelief that he was still cognizant and breathing. A pierce to the heart should have killed him within 30 seconds. Judging from the angle of the knife and placement, Zach would make an educated guess that Marcus pierced his right ventricle, possible tearing his antrioventricular valve. At the very least he should have bled out by now and choked on his own blood.

As the two males approached him, he instinctively tried to move away even though he knew he couldn't. Unexpectedly, he was free from his confines and stumbled away from his aggressors.

His heart suddenly stopped and a choking feeling grasped his throat. From where he moved he saw that _he _was still tied up. He saw his own body slumped over with the athame being haphazardly pulled from his lifeless body. Not his, _**a**_ lifeless body. It couldn't be his body as he was looking straight at it. One couldn't look at their body from this perspective so it couldn't be his.

Zach looked down at his chest and it was smooth, without blemish. No ceremonial knife had been plunged into it. So that just gave more credence to his theory that it wasn't his body. He looked to the face and it did look amazingly like his. The likelihood of someone looking exactly like him was astronomical but it couldn't be him. It just couldn't.

His breathing was becoming more and more erratic. He knew was starting to have a panic attack. He used to have them when he was younger, especially when he first attended classes with much older students. Now it was coming onto him full force because despite his brilliance he was having a lot of trouble trying to find a logical explanation of what was happening to him. He distinctly remembered being stabbed but here he was, standing in front of a dead body that looked exactly like him. No wound, no blood; nothing that suggested he was attacked.His two murderers paid him no mind and that also didn't make any sense. He couldn't be more than a couple feet away from them and he was audibly breathing heavily. How could they just ignore him after what they've done? How could be remember being stabbed but not be stabbed? The paradox he found himself in was overwhelming.

Alana stood outside the quiet house and saw everything that happened. Dr. Zachary Uriah Addy, age 26, died at 8:15pm on May 19th 2008. ETD was two minutes off. Cause of death: cardiac laceration. The poor bastard. He looked like he was having a really hard time comprehending what just happened. She couldn't blame him; it was a lot to take in.

Zach Addy had a genius IQ. When would he accept he was dead?

Marcus and the unknown male, the one called Master, started to drag the body away. He knew what they were doing was wrong. Even if it wasn't him it was _**someone**_. They shouldn't be allowed to do what he knew they were about to do. The male with the dark empty fathomless eyes was Gormogon. Zach remembered the pose he was tied in. It was the Widow's Son position and it was one of sacrifice. It was the position of the incomplete skeletal statue at the Jeffersonian. He knew the two would place a bone of their victim into the statue. Their goal was to replace every silver bone with its corresponding human bone. Why they did this was not clear to Zach. The two were obviously deranged and insane. They just ritualistically killed someone, who looked exactly like him but **was not him **(Zach needed to repeat that to himself several times), and he knew what they were about to do. It's what they did with all their victims and it turned Zach's stomach just thinking about it. He was astonished that he wasn't vomiting at the moment. This was a very traumatic event but his body wasn't behaving in its normal manner. He wasn't retching at the expectation of cannibalism on his doppelganger and he wasn't passing out due to his panic attack. His vision wasn't blurring and he wasn't sweating. It's as if he was just going through the motions with his heavy breathing and his body no longer reacted to stress. He found that if he concentrated he didn't even need to breathe so heavily. It was very strange because he'd never been able to will himself out of an attack before.

He chose to ignore the obvious and impossible discrepancies going on around him. There was a monstrous crime being committed and he had to do something about it.

Zach took advantage of their obliviousness to his presence and moved to subdue the killers. He wasn't taken by surprise now; he knew how to defend himself (he was stronger than he looked) and attack. His would be heroics were thwarted when his hand went through Marcus. He didn't miss the male; his hand literally went **through** the male. As if Marcus wasn't really there. Or was he not there? Nothing made sense! He was caught in some kind of illogical nightmare where all laws of physics were suspended and clearly broken.

A nightmare! He must be dreaming; that was the only rational explanation of it. He'd been working on the Gormogon case for so long that he was starting to live it out in his subconscious via dreams. He's read studies of it before. He must be lucid dreaming, the type of dreaming where he knew he was dreaming.

Zach let out a laugh and sigh of relief; felt so much better. He wasn't murdered! Relief rushed into him and whatever panic he had faded away. He was so comforted that he was giddy. He couldn't stop laughing because it was so obvious now. Of course it was a dream. What else could it be? Why didn't he think of it sooner? He must be dreaming of Marcus as the new Apprentice because he didn't care for the male. Geier was particularly incompetent at his job; always mucking about the crime scene, destroying perfectly good evidence with his carelessness. Almost as if he wanted the Jeffersonian team to not gather evidence. The FBI agent seemed to be under the misconception that just because he had a coverall on that his DNA and other particulates wouldn't contaminate the crime scene. The coverall wasn't enough. One had to move about the scene with care, always looking out for minute details and possible evidence. Zach always concluded that because Marcus didn't have such an eye as for detail as himself was why Geier missed trace evidence. And why he couldn't fathom his own particulates, while wearing protective gear, contaminating the crime scene.

Now that Zach had the whole mess figured out he wanted to get out of there. His dreams mostly consisted of much nicer things than being tied up, murdered, and then eaten. So he casually walked to what he assumed was the exit. Fascinatingly enough, he couldn't grab the door handle; at all. Like with Marcus, Zach's hand went straight through the knob; only leaving a ghostly white trail in its wake. It's as if his hand became intangible, breaking down into millions of little vaporous pieces to microscopically phase through the door.

He was now Kitty Pride. Interesting what the subconscious will come up with in dreams. He was a bit surprised at this power because it wouldn't be something he'd chose for himself. He'd rather be someone with a more offensively pragmatic power; such as Gambit. The ability to manipulate kinetic and potential energy to make things explode was much more in tune with Zach's preferences than intangibility. Perhaps he would have a talk with Dr. Sweets at work tomorrow. While psychology was a soft science, it was the only kind of science that dealt with the workings of the human mind. Some science was better than no science, he supposed. He wasn't familiar at all with the inner workings of the human mind (why would he be since emotions were basically impossible to quantify), so might as well ask an expert on the field.

Well if he couldn't open the door normally he might as well go along with what his dream world dictated. So he walked straight through it. It was a mind boggling and thrilling experience, as if he was testing out newly acquired powers. He always loved the scientific method. Experimentally he slowly placed his hand through the closed door. Like last time, he simply phased through it. As if the door wasn't there, but a mere hologram. He smiled slightly because it reminded him of all the sci-fi shows he so loved to watch. While the technology wasn't available at the moment, he had hope that it one day would be. He believed in science above all things. With science, anything could be possible.

Zach wondered what else he could do. Mindlessly he explored the world of what he thought was his dream.

Alana had no idea what was going on in Zach's head. One moment he had the justifiable reaction of mild hysteria going on full panic and then he laughed. He actually laughed; as if his murder was something he found funny once he _really_ thought about it. He was no longer in the basement which meant she needed to move. The two killers were wrapping Zach's dead body up and dragging it out of sight to God knows where. She hoped that they left the body somewhere it could be found and later identified. If not then it was going to be hard to do the new Reaper protocol which included seeing their body laid to rest. It was part of how the newly dead accepted what happened to them. How could they refute seeing their body lowered to the ground and their family members grieving?

Alana remembered very clearly how real her death became after seeing her casket being covered with dirt and her mother's tears of loss.

"_Snap out of it!_" Alana thought to herself, she was on a mission. It was not the time to reminisce about her own death.

She quickly moved from the ground window, silently as she could. The Reaper fog could only do so much and she did not want to mess with two killers that were knife to the heart happy. She didn't see Zach go through the door that led to the rest of the house so she concluded that he must have gone through the one that led outside. So she could easily intercept him as he came out. She decided to go to her car so they could get away faster. Who knew what the killers were capable of; they could be 28 Days Later "infected" fast for all she knew.

It shouldn't have taken as long as he was taking so she wondered what the hell was stalling him.

Zach was having way too much fun with his dream powers. The places he could go where no one could see him and walls were not an issue. This totally made up for the kidnapping and the dagger through the heart. It didn't hurt anyway, since dreams couldn't hurt anyone, so overall it was more unsettling than scary once he thought about it. He didn't realize his dallying about was starting to annoy the Reaper outside.

He finally made his way outside as the hallway started to get boring, even if he could walk through the walls. He phased through the door to the outside and into darkness. It was nighttime but he wasn't sure what time it was. He vaguely remembered taking out the trash but since it was a dream and he didn't go to sleep till nine or so, it had to be after that. Then again it was a dream where time didn't matter.

There was something exciting about the unknown and un-quanitfiableness of the dream world. Literally anything could happen, even breaking the laws of physics. What could he do if there were no rules?

His giddy mood of planning what to do, which included battling Cylons or the Alliance, was interrupted by a quiet but stern feminine voice.

"Psst. Hey, you. Guy without a shirt"

Zach swirled trying to find where the voice was coming from. He looked to the street and saw that a pretty female in a silver sedan in front of the house. She was in the driver side seat and the passenger door was open. She was motioning him to come to the car and sit. He was a bit confused as to why she could see him when the other two couldn't. Perhaps because he didn't want two killers to see him but was ok when a pretty girl did. That made sense. It was also a plus that said pretty girl was not only talking to him but wanted him to get into her vehicle. Dream world was awesome.

"Yeah you. Get in the car." Alana said hurriedly seeing the newly dead scientist hesitating. She was a bit confused that he appeared confused instead of in a fright. This was not exactly the reaction she expected, especially given what happened. Perhaps his scientist genius brain figured out that since he was dead, nothing could hurt him any longer. That would be a definite relief because explaining to someone that they're dead, especially young people, was a pain in the ass. The five stages of grief did not only apply to those experiencing their impending death or the death of a loved one. It also included those who have already passed on and waiting for their lights. Thankfully most people accepted their death fairly quickly and entered their hereafter. Alana wasn't sure if it had something to do with the lights themselves or people in general accepted things when it was right in front of their face. She could only hope that since Dr. Addy was a scientist and therefore a rational person, experiencing his death would be proof enough.

She was about to be very disappointed.

Zach didn't see the harm in getting into a car with a complete stranger, he was dreaming after all, so he hopped right into her car. It was weird; he didn't have the same terror that always accompanied getting into vehicles. Perhaps dreaming of being stabbed to death put things into perspective. He has yet to actually get into a car accident so the fear actually seemed unfounded at the moment. Being killed by a disliked coworker could do wonders for ones phobias.

"OK, I know you must be very confused and scared right now..."Alana started on her spiel as she drove off into the night but was interrupted by Zach.

"I'm not confused or scared." he stated simple. He wondered how he was able to sit in a car without falling through but not be able to open a door. Dreams were very illogical.

That blindsided Alana for a bit and was silent for a moment. Who wasn't scared or confused after being murdered and walking away from their dead body? She was starting to think she was right when she first "met" him at the Jeffersonian. Perhaps he would be very adept at being a Reaper. Nothing seemed to faze this kid.

"Uhh ok. That's great...I guess."

She had this whole speech planned out and he ruined it because he wasn't behaving at all what she'd expected. She guessed she ought to be grateful since his non-hysteria was actually a plus but it was kind of disconcerting. Who is so non-chalant about death?

If he kept up this attitude, he'd be Howard's Reaper wet dream. A Reaper who had no sentimental attachment to life? Who would accept Death and go Reaping without issue? Zach Addy definitely had all the qualities of a good Reaper.

"Sooo..."Yeah, she had nothing.

"If you could please drop me off somewhere I could procure a shirt, I'd be very grateful"

That was when she remembered Zach wasn't wearing as shirt. All he had on here a pair of comfortable looking jeans and chuck's. She stared a moment because she was slightly surprised at how defined he was. He wasn't a hulking bulge of muscles but she could definitely tell he worked out. She quickly looked back to the road and berated herself for staring like an idiot.

"_Holy crap Alana, get a grip. The guy just died and you're being a huge freak._"

She brushed it off as not being in a relationship with a male in a very long time. Zach was beyond adorable and cute but he also just died. Talk about inappropriate.

"Ugh yeah...clothes." Alana drew out, trying to find a way to explain that he was not going to be able to change what he was wearing till he got a corporeal body. "Sorry Zach, but you're kind of stuck at the moment with what ya got."

Zach briefly wondered how this stranger knew his name but brushed it off to illogical dream parameters. Normally in dreams he knew things without any rational reason for him to know such things. Dreams had their own rules but he figured in lucid dreaming he was more apt to being aware of when something didn't make sense.

"I know I'm new to lucid dreaming but I would like to experiment with gaining control of my environment. I'd like to start with procuring a t-shirt. I feel that would be a simple and logical first attempt."

She turned sharply to him, forgetting about the road completely.

"What?" She had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

"Control in lucid dreaming. I know in the studies I've read say that it could take years to get control, if ever, but I'd like to attempt it. I feel that getting a shirt would be one of the first steps. I've had semi to completely nude dreams before so I know that they're meant to unsettle us but I would like to succeed now in getting dressed where before I had failed. The thought of controlling my dreams is a fascinating idea, so I'm actually quite glad that I didn't wake up as soon as the dagger pierced me. Thank you for picking me up, by the way, and taking me away from those people. They were most unpleasant. I very much prefer to be in the company of a pretty girl despite traveling in a car. If you only knew the dangers of this contraption. Such as..."

Alana started to tune out the Dr. as he chattered on about the dangers of her vehicle. She chose to ignore the "pretty girl" comment because it was neither the time nor the place to act like a 14 yr old idiot that gushed over a small compliment. She was 24, technically 63, so she could control herself and any stupid urges she hadn't felt in a very long time. She was not a lonely weirdo cat lady Channing and she wasn't sex crazed like half her other coworkers. She was Alana Bailey! She was the professional one of the office. The calm and collected one. She was going to act like it damnit.

As Zach droned on, something caught her attention about his initial speech: lucid, control, nakedness.

It suddenly dawned on Alana what he thought was going on.

As they got to a red light, Alana took the time to slowly look at Zach and take in what she just learned. It explained a lot: Why he wasn't panicking, why he thought he could magically procure a shirt, why he wanted to attempt to control his environment at will…he thought he was fucking dreaming!

With mouth open and eyes wide, she only had one thing to say.

"Oh shit"


	10. Chapter 10

Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.

No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction.

There was an awkward silence in the car. Alana had no idea how to deal with someone so deep in denial about their death that they were convinced the whole thing was a dream. Zach didn't know why the girl in the car would suddenly make an exclamation about feces. If he remembered correctly, the explicative "oh shit" with a particular inflection was not really about feces. It was a figure of speech for disbelief. He never understood metaphors the subtleties of inflection but this one was particularly confusing to him. What did excrement have to do with confusion?

Alana let out a small laugh, mostly to keep from crying. The whole thing was ridiculous. Her first mentoring gig and she not only got a murder victim but one swimming in denial.

"_Beautiful. Perfect. Just perfect. Jesus H. Christ, what am I supposed to do_?"

That was a very good question. Her goal was to get him to accept that he was dead but how to do that? His explanation to himself was actually fairly rational. She suspected that he was some sort of atheist which explained why he didn't conclude he was a spirit.

"_Oh God, Atheists_"

It was a bit of an ironic thought but she wasn't concerned about that at the moment. How could she tell Zach, who probably doesn't believe in souls, that in essence that was all he was at the moment?

"Sure Zach, there're clothes where we're going" she finally spoke. She had to be cautious with this as the newly dead could be very fragile. This was a delicate situation that she needed to handle with care.

"Excellent. Where are we going?"

That was another very good question. She was more or less driving aimlessly as she attained her main goals for the night: Gather Zach and get away from the murders. She merged onto the beltway and decided to go to Denise's house…her house now. It was after rush hour, so traffic had calmed down considerably. She had about twenty minutes to come up with a plan.

As they sailed across the concrete sea, Zach filled the silence with all the hopes of a dreamer.

"The prospect of being able to defy science and have an endless possibility of powers is very exciting…"

She drowned out his voice because his innocent excitement was making her job harder.

When they arrived at the Rockville mini-mansion, Alana was filled with familiar warmth. She always loved Denise's house. While it was very large just for one person, Denise had filled it with all the memories and adventures of her very long life. Denise made Alana believe that just because they were dead didn't mean they couldn't have a fulfilling unlife. Denise's zest for life is partly what kept Alana going. She could only hope she could continue Denise's life lessons now that the Reaper was gone.

Alana parked in the driveway and shut off the car. She still had no idea what to do and sat in silence. Zach seemed content to look around from his seat in the car; he had no idea where he was as he rarely ever ventured outside his apartment, the Jeffersonian, or where a crime scene happened to be. The upper-middle class neighborhood was foreign to him but he was aware that he was in an affluent suburb of D.C. He just wasn't quite sure why he was there. Why would his subconscious take him to such a place? It was another thing to talk to Dr. Sweets about tomorrow.

Alana took a deep breath and decided to take the situation as is. Hopefully things would look better in the morning and the time lapse would convince Zach he wasn't dreaming. Otherwise she would be in a world of frustration and trouble the coming days. If he didn't accept he was dead soon then it would impede on his Reaper duties and that would not do. A Post-It will come, regardless if he was ready for it. Alana felt bad for the guy because he seemed nice enough but a more practical part of her knew that everyone had to die sometime. He was just unfortunate enough to have it in the prime of his life. It happened to her and she was ok, so she was hopeful he would be too.

She really didn't know Zach at all.

"OK, we're here. Everyone out."

"Where are we and why are we here? I thought we were going to procure me some clothing, more specifically: a shirt."

"Yeah…there are shirts inside. It's late so all the stores are closing up."

She knew that playing into his denial could make his acceptance a lot harder down the line; she still didn't have any clue as to how to break the news to him yet. If seeing his own murder and walking away from his dead body wasn't enough to convince him, what would?

"And for the where, we're at a friend's…my house. We're at my house." she corrected herself. It was her house now, not Denise's. Denise didn't need it and never would again. It was a depressing thought on top of everything else that weighed in on Alana's mind. She didn't want to deal with anything at the moment and in her current state she wasn't suited to deal with Zach. She'd revisit the whole thing in the morning. She just wanted to get some sleep and attack the issues with a fresh mind.

Zach followed her out of the car, while not even opening the door. He thought it was super cool, if not totally illogical, that he could just walk out of the car without opening the door. He was about to do the same thing with the front door as he did not have the patience to wait for the female to fish for her keys.

It's his dream so why should he have to do anything he didn't want to do?

Alana saw what he was about to do and was not about to put up with that kind of rudeness. She, without any thought, reached out to grab him and he was startled to find that she was able to grasp him.

"Hey, no going in the house without me, ok?" she said patiently and calmly.

Zach's mind reeled at the turn of events. Why was she able to grab him while he was unable to even feel anything around him? He didn't feel the summer heat or a physical door. His hand was suddenly at her face, gently touching her cheek.

Alana let out a small gasp of surprised because she was not expecting such an action from him. She was also stunned at the very intense and focused look he was giving her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his deep gaze; he looked as if he was studying something new and amazing.

Zach was amazed. This was a whole new facet to lucid dreaming that he had never encountered or even heard of before. He was touching this unknown female and it was more sharp and clear than anything he had ever dreamt of. Her skin was very soft; she looked ethereal in the low light of the full moon and dim lights of the street lamps. His fingers brushed her dark silky hair and he noticed how very pretty she was.

Alana should say something. She knew she should say something but nothing was coming to mind. She could only focus on the feel of his gentle hand on her and his deep brown eyes. She had never seen someone so focused, someone so intent on knowing every detail of her face. She ignored how nice it was that he was so close without it being creepy.

"_Alana say something, this is not helping. Alana? Say something, anything!"_

Even the easy task of saying anything was proving difficult. Alana made a few sounds and moved her mouth but still nothing was coming out. With her long life and extensive vocabulary she was so entranced by the mystery that was Zach Addy that she was rendered speechless.

"_Are you really this lame Baily? Damnit, brain work!"_

She really hated her inner monologue sometimes; it was unduly harsh and critical.

The moment was shattered as soon as they heard a voice coming from the neighbors house.

"Hey, Alana. Are you alright?"

She looked past Zach to see Ted Winters. A nice middle aged father of two she sometimes made small talk with while she waited for Denise.

Alana finally found her voice.

"Hey Ted. Nope just having one of those moments, ya know…" motioning her hands to her head it the universal "crazy" motion.

She hoped she didn't sound as pathetic and lame as she thought she did. She let out a nervous laugh and blushed at what she knew she must have looked like: a psycho staring into nothing with a dopey look on her face. 

If Ted thought something was amiss, and by the puzzled look on his face he did, then he didn't say anything. He was too polite to point out when someone was being weird.

Zach frowned at the interaction because he did not recognize the male. He didn't know the female either, he did notice her name was Alana, and he was sure that all dreams were manifestations of his subconscious. So if that was true, and he knew it to be because he read it in a reputable scientific journal, then he should know who these two people were. The mind wouldn't make anyone up from nothing; he had to have seen them. Perhaps Alana was a pretty girl he saw in passing at the grocery store. Perhaps Ted was a guy he crossed paths with at the Jeffersonian. He wasn't sure why his subconscious would pick two people he couldn't have seen for more than a second as he didn't recognize them at all. With his vast intellect he should be able to think of where he saw the two. It was troubling to think that he might be losing his photographic memory. He brushed it off to not being fully functional due to dreaming. Another thing that troubled Zach was that Ted seemed to completely disregard him.

"Sir, can you see me?"

Zach concluded that he might as well as straightforward as possible. He didn't see a use in using tact when it was inconsequential.

And inconsequential it was because Ted made no indication that he could indeed see Zach. Zach then proceeded to wave his hands to get his attention. Again, Ted did not acknowledge him at all. Alana saw that the situation could get quickly out of hand and she did not need Zach going into random people's houses seeing what he could get away with. She has had a few Peeping Tom Reaps before and they were quite the hassle.

Before Ted had another chance to make polite conversation she found her keys, quickly opened the door, and grabbed Zach into the house. Alana was sure she looked even crazier for grabbing thin air and somewhat struggling to it inside, but she had to do it. She dreaded the next meeting with Ted now they were neighbors.

"_Speaking of neighbors I need to settle out my own apartment and come up with a cover story as to why Denise is gone…"_

She kept her mind on anything but what was going on at the moment as she put her stuff away. Her tactic was short lived as the shirtless male was not about to let her think of anything but him.

"Right, you're shirtless…hold on a moment."

She went off to one of the first floor guestrooms because she knew Denise kept some spare clothes there. She knew Zach wouldn't be able to actually put it on but at least it would keep him busy as he tried. Alana thanked whatever God or gods up there that made it so souls no longer needed sleep. She's seen him concentrate on a skull and her face with more focus and diligence that she'd ever seen on anyone. So she was sure that with the lack of need to sleep and his determination, Zach trying to put a shirt on would take up a lot of time. She needed that time to sleep and figure out her next steps.

She grabbed the first plain t-shirt she could find that she thought could fit him. Alana was thankful that Denise had more or less an open door policy to her house for when Reapers needed a place to stay. So the departed Reaper had kept a slew of clothes for them.

She found Zach in the library looking curiously at Denise's ("_No my library, it's all mine now_") expansive library.

Zach was fairly impressed with the collect of annals as some of them were first additions. He let out a frustrated sigh as his hands passed through the tomes, as they did with everything else, and he couldn't pick them up. He wanted to study everything around him in detail but how was he supposed to do that if he couldn't examine them first hand? The only thing he was able to touch and feel was Alana and he was certain she was not up for being studied in such a way.

Although he did observe she didn't seem too objectionable to his earlier handling. He always made sure to hold objects with a soft yet stable hand. Bones and evidence could be very fragile and easily tarnished if not handled with the utmost care. This practice had bleed over into other aspects of his life so he knew he didn't physically hurt her. This was a time where he wished he was more in tuned with people's emotion to get a reading on whether she was uncomfortable in his presence. Even he knew that invading someone's territorial bubble was not a societal norm and could make someone uncomfortable. Normally he was not so rash but he was just so utterly perplexed and curious as to why she was able to grab onto him while all other evidence pointed to him being completely intangible. He needed to find out if she was tangible to him as he was to her. He was enthralled to find out she was. It was an illogical fallacy that he needed to figure out. Why was she so special that he became solid at her touch? Soft skin and silky hair aside, she was a normal human female from his observations. She didn't have any discerning marks or characteristics that would make her the singular entity that he could come into contact with. The whole thing was very mystifying. He felt as if he was on track for some kind of scientific discovery and he was absolutely riveted. If he could make any kind of sense of the dreamscape then he could find all sorts of breakthroughs in the name of science.

Intellectually he knew such an endeavor was probably futile. Not only did he have the burden of proof that his dream happened as such but he'd also have to recreate the situation; along with showing empirical evidence of the events occurring. There was no technology to see into the minds of people much less dreams. Despite all of that he didn't care at the moment. He was a part of something amazing, he just knew it. Alana had something to do with it too but he wasn't sure what. It was obvious she was special but he didn't know in what capacity. He was eager to find out.

Alana on the other hand knew exactly what was going on but was not confident on how to break the news to Zach.

"_It's like freaking reverse Santa. Sorry Zachy, but he's real! And you're going to become one of his happy little helper elves. Only instead of Santa it's Death and instead of elves it's Reapers. Oh yeah and you don't make nice things like toys, you pop souls and get to see the many fucked up ways a person can die. Yay!"_

Alana knew that would definitely not go over well with the scientist. She also knew there was no good way to break the news that one was not only dead but now recruited to be Death's lackey. While there was no good way, Alana knew some were better than others. There had to be a better way to tell him than the Santa allegory but she kept it in the back of her mind in case worse came to worse and she had absolutely nothing. Which with the way things were going, nothing was all she had.

She gently placed the shirt on the coffee table and got Zach's attention.

"Here's the shirt you wanted…take as much time as you need to get it on…"

She felt bad because she knew he would never get it on while he was in incorporeal but at least it would distract him.

"If you get tired" again something she knew wouldn't happen "then feel free to take the guest bedroom down the hall."

He nodded his head in acquiescence and preceded his first, and probably many more, attempt at physically grabbing the shirt. His face returned to that deep thought intense mode she saw on the front door. Suddenly she felt a little put off. The intense studying look is apparently universal for everything that didn't make sense to him. She didn't quite feel so special anymore.

"_Alana, you're an idiot."_

She couldn't help but agree with herself. She slightly shook her head and rolled her eyes at herself. Again, very stupid of her since obviously she couldn't see herself do it as she wasn't in front of a mirror. She was sure she looked as dense as she felt.

Alana made her way upstairs to her personal bedroom Denise had kept for her. Not the master bedroom, she wasn't quite ready for that yet. Everything seemed to still belong to her former partner, not to her. Hopefully in time they will but for now she was content with the smaller room.

She did her normal routine for getting ready for bed. She brushed her teeth, hair, washed her face, and put on her pj's. She was ready for some nocturnal rest to get her ready and rarin' to go the next morning. Tomorrow she'll be able to conquer the Zach Addy issue and nothing could stop her. She told herself this over and over again as she snuggled under her comforter. There was no AM meeting the next day so that meant no Post-Its till the afternoon if at all. Even Reapers had slow days. She looked at the clock and it read 10:23 PM. Plenty of time to get a good eight hours if she fell asleep immediate and got up at 7:30.

She underestimated how much her mind worked when it was stressed. Staring at the clock it went from 10:23 PM to 7:30 AM in no time at all. She had not moved from the spot and she never closed her eyes. Daylight bled into the night till the darkness went away. Birds were chirping and she heard the rumbling of cars passing by. It was daytime and everyone was starting to rise, some even earlier, and go to work.

Alana lay motionless as she had all night, starring into nothing. Worried marred her face as she was in the exact predicament she was in all along with no miraculous new idea of how to tell Zach Addy his life was over…literally.

"I'm doomed."


	11. Chapter 11

Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.

Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.

No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction.

Despite having a sleepless night Alana was able to get out of bed and get ready for the day. She was a bit more slow than usual but the body of a Reaper was an amazing thing. It could work on little to no sleep for days, even a week, without much damage; most likely due to amazing healing ability and metabolism. While a normal human would go mad after three days of no rest, a Reaper would only feel fairly fatigued. A lot of Alana's feet dragging were due to not wanting to confront the issue of Zach Addy than actually tiredness. But after a long hot shower and her other daily hygienic rituals, she could no longer put off going downstairs. She hadn't heard any commotion during the night nor any that morning. She wasn't sure what scene she would walk in on. Would Zach have given up on his quest to put on a shirt? Would he be a bored restless mess because he had nothing to do with his time?

Alana tentatively walked down the steps, each foot she pressed down softer than the other; hoping to make as little noise as possible. She knew it was absurd to be so cautious in her own house from a ghost that could do no harm but she wasn't one to give bad news. She hated it and she really hated how her gut told her this was going to end very badly.

Everything seemed normal as she got to the foot of the stairs. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The house seemed empty it was so quiet.

A jolt of panic hit her as she thought of the house being completely empty. She didn't think far enough ahead that Zach could possibly decide to wander off while she was staring into nothing all night. She quickened her pace and checked the library, where she last saw him.

All panic subsided as she saw the male exactly where she left him. Well, not exactly where she left him. He had grown tired of trying to put on the shirt and had occupied himself with the libraries expansive collection. She was puzzled that he was actually reading a book. From the look at the pile beside him he had read a bunch of books.

"_Where those books out last night_?"

Zach was engrossed in his novel just as he was engrossed with the shirt last night. Alana knew that she'd have to get his attention vocally as it seemed he was in his own little world that did not notice peripheral movements.

"Hey…Zach. Mornin'."

It was enough to get his attention as he looked up from his tome and greeted Alana in the same manner. He didn't seem upset or to have made any breakthrough with his death. As silly as it was, Alana had slightly hoped he'd come to the conclusion on his own and possibly go to her to ask what it meant. Alas, it was not meant to be and Zach was oblivious as ever.

"So what's goin' on here? Whatcha readin?"

"What Dreams May Come by Matheson. Interesting concept if not completely preposterous."

Alana could only stare blankly at him.

"_How ironic._"

It was an opening though and Alana had to take it.

"Why is it so hard to believe? Do you not believe in an afterlife?"

"There is a substantial lack of empirical evidence that points to an afterlife, or even that humans have a separate entity within their minds or bodies that could separated from their physical being and remain intact. In essence, there is no proof that once our bodies die that there is anything else to move on."

The way he said it was so cold and definite. And a little bit condescending, Alana noted slightly annoyed.

"Well lack of proof doesn't necessarily denote lack of existence."

Zach smiled indulgently at Alana; sometimes it was cute how normal people would try to engage in an intellectual conversation with him as if they could even begin to keep up. Alana could sense the arrogance in Zach's smile and was already sorry she even brought it up. He was not about to make this easy and she knew this was about to blow up in her face.

"What your argument is that it's impossible to prove a negative and you're right."

Alana was a bit surprised at this admission. Usually atheist tend to be complete douche bags who start in the whole "spaghetti monster" argument.

"There is anecdotal evidence, and I use the term 'evidence' loosely, that there is some kind of higher power. All factions of the faiths have made claims to their chosen deity or deities. I will even admit there are certain things in this world that I am unable to explain, particularly the mindset and action of others. This is not enough for me to believe in a higher power."

"What would get you to believe in a higher power or afterlife?"

It would be awesome if Zach drew a metaphorical road map for her.

"I consider myself a rational empiricist not necessarily an atheist. Science dictates that unless something is proven then it has to remain a thesis. God, emotion, souls, etc…cannot be quantified by any science known today, so therefore by scientific definition unable to be proven or disproven. But from all the data gathered, there simply is no evidence that there is anything beyond…this" he motioned his hands to his body. It was very ironic because he motioned to what he just stated there was no proof of.

"_OK, so this isn't a total lost cause. I just have to give some sort of hard evidence…"_

Alana took a moment to contemplate her options. Zach went back to reading his book as Alana seemed satisfied with the conversation. He wasn't exactly sure as the only proof had been her lack of rebuttal and was not angrily telling him was going to hell for not believing in God. He casually swiped his fingers across the page and it lightly turned as if a gentle breeze caught it.

She was impressed because most spirits, even those destined to be Reapers, never really took the time or did the effort to learn how to move objects while incorporeal. Even Alana had only managed to slightly move a swinging door and that was mostly because she accidentally walked through it.

She frowned in confusion as an earlier question poked its head into her mind.

"Zach, where these books out when you started to read?"

"No, I had to get them down from the shelf when I grew tired of trying to put on the shirt," he said never looking up from his book.

Zach Addy was full of surprises and her duty to tell him he was dead, forgotten. She was interested in how he was able to attain such a feat. Zach didn't think it anything of it as he went back to reading, not noticing Alana's look of mild bewilderment. She was slightly impressed. It seemed that Zach was destined to be amazing; living or dead.

"Can you show me?"

"Show you what?"

"Show me how you got the book from the shelf..." she paused at his questioning look. Like he didn't quite understand why she wanted to see him perform such a menial task. Then he remembered his intangibility. He leapt up to show off his accomplishment. He still didn't understand a lot about his current state; such as why he was unable to grab or feel most things but was able to sit down without going through the furniture. It seemed there were no laws or science to his state of being. But while he couldn't explain the how or why he was able to play with his new found powers. He walked, almost bounced with excitement, to the shelf and chose a random book. With deep concentration and focus he palmed the book, Faust; then with great mental effort he transferred the tome from the shelf to the coffee table. He looked as if he carried a load much heavier than a small novel but it was quite the feat for someone who wasn't physically there.

Alana was so flabbergasted at the act, her jaw dropped in surprise. He figured out how to manipulate physical objects in a meaningful way. He did more than the small movement of a page or swinging door. He managed to levitate objects in the span of a night.

"Impressive Zach, very impressive."

"Yes, it took several hours of trial and error to figure out how to move objects. I noticed when I was attempting to grasp the shirt that I could never quite cinch it but I was able to move it slightly, like so."

He showcased his prior attempt by flicking his hand over the shirt as if he was about to grab it but all he was able to do was disturb it. The corner of the fabric had shifted slightly but that was it.

"I'm still unable to actually wear the shirt as most of my physical abilities lie within my hands. While I can grab the shirt with my hands, I am unable to place it on my being. I believe with a few more hours of work I would be able to accomplish this task."

Alana believed it. She knew she had to tell him now because if he accomplished wearing the shirt then it'd be a very scary sight for people to see a floating shirt with nothing in it.

"Zach, I have to tell you something…"

She paused as he was occupied with attempting to put the shirt on. It would have been comical to see Zach attempt to dress himself but have the shirt fall through him over and over again if it also wasn't so sad.

Zach had stopped messing with the shirt and looked at her with those cute puppy brown yes.

"_Oh God this is going to be rough_."

"You're dead."

There she did it. She finally did it. She told Zach Addy what he knows deep down inside but tells himself it can't be true. She braced herself for a freak out.

"No I'm not" he stated in calm tone then went back to his t-shirt.

The nervous breath she was holding in was let out as she was exasperated. The composed way he denied his death was not what she was expecting. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, mostly a conniption fit. But it seemed that simply telling Zach he was dead was not what she should have been worried about.

"What do you mean no you're not? Yes, you are."

"No. It's just not rational. I'm dreaming. If I was dead then I would cease to exist. You acquiesced to the idea I am dreaming last night."

"You're right I did" she knew it was going to bite her in the ass "But that was my mistake. You are dead. You saw your own dead body."

Zach was becoming uncomfortable at the thought of what he saw last night. It was a traumatic event that he didn't want to think about.

"No, I dreamt that I saw my own dead body."

Alana could see this going in circles really quickly so she had to think about what she knew about dreams in order to make Zach realize he wasn't dreaming.

"Zach, it's been over 8 hours since I last saw you. Don't you think that's a really long time to be dreaming?"

"The mind processes things faster while you're asleep. Time goes by much faster in a dream. Hence why it seems I've been here for 8 hours in reality I've probably been sleeping for only a couple hours."

She had to think for a moment. She knew she couldn't use his intangibility as he thought it was a part of his dream. She closed her eyes in concentration, trying to remember what she knew about dreams from the random psych class she took in college.

'Ummm look how aware and cognitive you are though. You've read about dreams right?"

She didn't wait for him to answer as she knew he was the type to read everything thoroughly.

"You're having a conversation with me and reading. You shouldn't be able to do that in a dream."

Zach paused as he knew she was right. He was able to read and comprehend more than he ought to. He distinctly remembered reading about how to tell if one was in a dream. The ability to read was one of the ways to discern one was awake. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as anxiety bubbled inside of him. The awareness that he was not dreaming was not sitting comfortably with him. If he wasn't dreaming, then what was going on?

"It must be because I'm of above average intelligence." He finally said, more to himself than Alana.

"What about me? Have you ever seen me before?"

"Not that I can recall."

"Then how can you dream of someone you've never seen or met?"

Technically they have met before but she was wearing a different face. That was a story for another time and place.

"I…must have seen you in passing and forgot."

Alana suddenly remembered something from his file and was quick with a rebuttal.

"Don't you have eidetic memory? Wouldn't you have remembered me, even if you saw me in passing?"

Zach was a little stumped at that. Alana had a point. Zach remembered everything he ever saw. He rarely ever looked anyone in the face or eyes, so for him to know what she looked like in such detail, enough to dream about her, he would have remembered seeing her beforehand. Not only seeing her but where and when he saw her. His earlier conclusion that he was not at full capacity mentally was wearing thin as he was able to speed read and do other things that required his full thought and attention.

"While I have a vast intellect and photographic memory, even I am able to forget things. You must have been particularly unmemorable for me to not remember you."

Alana didn't know to be sad that he was going to such lengths, as deprecating his abilities which by the tone of his voice he didn't even believe, or be insulted that he thought she could be so forgettable.

She was running out of possible scientific reasons he was not dreaming so she switched tactics.

"Zach, what do you know about the Grim Reaper?" 

While she knew that there was no one Reaper, she was aware that myth and legend only mentioned one.

"The Grim Reaper is a psychopomp: A mythological entity that is responsible for guiding souls to the afterlife. It's debated whether or not _The _Grim Reaper is responsible for death or if the entity is the manifestation of Death itself. The being is also said to sever the ties between the soul and the body hence it usually being depicted with a scythe. The Grim Reaper is mostly a 15th century and onward personification of Death. Before that, many cultures had their own representation of Death; such as the Angel of Death for the Judeo-Christian sect and various animal spirits like the Raven or specific deities for polytheistic religions."

That was a very thorough and expressionless response. It was clear to Alana that Zach also did not believe in Death as a sentient being with a plan for everyone. Still, she felt didn't have a choice but to reveal what she was. She couldn't tell him he was to become a Reaper yet, not till he went through the motions of his death, funeral, and acceptance of all that had happened to him.

"That's a really good grasp of what Death is. I happen to be a Grim Reaper."

Alana thought it was really cute how Zach's head slightly tilted and the confused look that donned his face as he took in what she said. Like a puppy given a command and didn't know what the hell his master wanted. Alana guessed she just shattered his stereotypical belief about what most people thought of when they thought about The Grim Reaper. She didn't wear a cloak and did not carry around a scythe (although she thought it would be totally cool if she did).

"That is not possible. I know of a highly regarded psychoanalyst that could help you with your delusion."

And that was all he had to say on the matter and sat down to continue reading. Alana was starting to get really irritated at how he would brush her off. It was very rude. She finally pushed the book he was reading away from him and got down on one knee. She was trying to get to his eye level and comfort him while she told him bad news. She had to get through to him somehow.

She grabbed his hand and told him "Zach you need to listen to me. You died last night. You know you did. You saw those über creepy guys plunge a really big knife into your chest and then drag you away."

She was doing it again. She was touching him and able to hold onto him as if he wasn't intangible. His rationalization of his situation was starting to crumble and he did not like it one bit.

He flinched at the contact and quickly wretched his hand away. He did not like any evidence contrary to his theory he was dreaming.

"How are you able to touch me?" finally verbalizing his confusion. He had pondered the conundrum before but this was the first time he really questioned his current state. He could no longer firmly grasp onto the hypothesis that he was dreaming. She was right, he was too cognizant to be dreaming and the time lapse could not be ignored either. He was very aware of the time passing as he became bored easily. He only started to read to fill in the time. He was tempted to go out exploring but was afraid of what might happen. He didn't want another episode with Gormogon or Geier. He also did not know where he was and did not intend to find out while shirtless. Zach's logical mind was starting to overcome his self-preserving denial. If all possibilities have been eliminated then whatever remains, however improbably or even impossible, must be the truth. Even logic was starting to betray him and he didn't know what to think.

"Because I'm a Reaper. One of our abilities is to be able to physically touch souls."

Souls. A damning word if he ever heard one. Something he had never believed in, even with all those Sunday classes his mother forced him to go to. Even at the tender age of nine, he was skeptical of all the religious mythology they tried to instill in him. His questioning the validity of such claims was not well received by the teacher. It further alienated him from his peers who were so ready and willing to accept whatever the adults told them. They didn't understand the strange boy with all his questions about God, death, and morality. They knew what right was right and what was wrong was wrong. The concept of a middle ground or a grey area was beyond their grasp. They wouldn't understand the concept till much later in life, if at all.

So the word was a frightening concept to him. It defied all that he knew to be true. All that he believed was crumbling around him as the evidence piled up. He saw his death with his own eyes but he doubted his senses. What good are his senses if they fail him? He prided himself on being an empiricist but what good is physical evidence if he doesn't trust what his mind is telling him? What if he didn't want to trust his senses because they told him something he didn't want to know? As illogical as he knew his feelings to be, he wanted to ignore logic for the first time in his life. If he was truly dead and Alana was correct, he was a spirit. If souls and an afterlife exist, were his mother and all the others right? Was there some kind of moral code and standard of behavior given from on high? Did he fall into the category of those who were blessed or damned?

These thoughts came at him at a record pace that even he couldn't completely comprehend. There were so many questions that he had that he had no way of processing. He was taught one type of religion but he knew of many others. He had no idea which one was right. Could his mother given him the map to salvation or was it the wrong one and he was doomed from the start? Could his lack of belief and faith be his downfall? He put a stop to that line of thinking. It was all conjecture and he was still sure there was some logical explanation of what was going on. Alana had pointed out the fallacies in his dream theory so he had to think of some other supposition.

Alana was worried about the anxious look Zach was sporting. His silence was not a good sign either. Up until that moment, he had a retort to everything she'd thrown at him. She had to say something soon so he wouldn't think of another excuse as to what was happening.

"Zach, it's ok. I know this is scary and you're confused but trust me when I tell you things are going to be alright."

Her completely illogical statement just irritated and upset Zach further. He wished she wouldn't speak so he could process and figure out the most logical explanation next to dreaming. If he was indeed dead, how could anything be right again?

Alana did not like the frown that graced his face. It was one thing to be in total denial it was another to get pissed off. She did her best to keep patient as she knew dying wasn't easy. Accepting death wasn't either. She was an old pro at being dead so she had to bide her time and wait for him to process everything.

Zach got up from his seat and started to pace the library; anything to get away from Alana who was determined to shake him out of his denial. If his heart could pound it would because he was getting very agitated.

"How is any of this even possible?" he finally asked. He couldn't think of another possibility as death always managed to invade his mind. He did see himself die. He did see his murders drag off his body. He wasn't able to physically touch anything except for a few seconds and even that was limited. He was remembering all that he was taught about souls when he was younger. They were non-physical remnants of a person that no one could see. It would explain why Gormogon and Geier were unable to see him. Alana was only able to see and touch him because she was a supposed Grim Reaper. That explained her abilities but what wasn't explained was how it was all possible. How was it that with all the advancement of Man where they completely unable to detect such a phenomenon? If anything all the science pointed to there not being any sort supernatural occurrence.

Zach wished he could hyperventilate because it would give him something to do other than keep thinking about his predicament and coming to the same conclusion.

"There has to be a logical explanation for all of this."

Alana's shoulders slumped slightly because Zach was determined to not accept his death. She didn't know where to go from there. She tried to explain it all with logic but that was a bust due to science and an afterlife being irreconcilable. All science depended on theories and what people could tangibly comprehend. Death was inherently indefinable and beyond what most could understand. There was no rhyme or reason to who was chosen and why. Reapers didn't even know the full story. All Alana really knew was that there was a plan and she was a part of making it come to fruition. There was a big gaping hole between what she knew and what was; there was no getting around it either. It wasn't for her to know so in the end it all had to be taken with a bit of faith.

Zach was a scientist and there was no room for that kind of faith. Faith in the scientific method, sure. Faith that there would be a logical explanation somehow, someway. Absolutely. But faith in something that science could not explain but was also contrary? Unthinkable.

Alana was getting desperate. She only had so much time to get him to accept his death and escort him through the process. She had a bad feeling about what she was about to do but felt she didn't have many options. She grabbed his red folder and showed it to him.

"Zach, look at this. This is your death file. It told me when, where, and other deets on your death."

He stood next to her and she showed him his folder. It looked like any type of government file with his history on it. Where he worked, his education, his academic accomplishments, where he lived; all of it could be explained by a private investigator or the FBI doing one of their background checks. What was eye opening was the residence and time of his supposed death. It wasn't too far from Hodgin's mansion. He quickly did the calculations in his head and the timing was right. From when he was kidnapped to an estimation of when he was awoken and then stabbed. Still, what she was showing him was something anyone could have gleaned off his life with Google and he stated as much.

Zach was getting very upset and while his face retained its stoic demeanor the lights in the house were flickering on and off; a sure sign that a spirit was in turmoil.

Then Alana remembered something that only he would really know.

"Zach, remember yesterday when two women came into the lab and disrupted work? That was me and my partner Denise."

Zach knew what she was talking about but did not remember seeing her there. The two females in question looked nothing like Alana so he wasn't sure if she was a third female that he didn't see.

"I talked to you when you were holding a skull. You explained to me what the markings meant." Alana explained further.

While Zach knew what she was talking about she couldn't have possibly been the woman he talked to yesterday.

"You can't possibly be the female I talked to yesterday. You're much more aesthetically pleasing than her."

Alana was taken aback by the compliment. He didn't seem to notice he basically said she was pretty, he more or less stated it as if he was commenting on the weather outside. Alana was starting to sense a pattern with Dr. Addy. The male didn't seem to have any real attachment to anything he said. He said things that he felt were true and that no emotion was to be involved. So she brushed it off just as easily because she was getting used to his mannerisms.

"I know I look different than I did yesterday. Reapers look different to the dead than the living. My living body is designed to look unremarkable so people are more likely to forget me at any particular place in case I run into the same people at multiple Reap scenes."

He didn't need to know that much about Reapers just yet but Alana couldn't help but babble on about anything to try to get through to him.

"_Reapers look different to the dead than the living._" These words hit home for reasons he didn't understand. Perhaps with his anthropologist mind he knew she was telling the truth. What reason did she have to lie to him?

"Still there has to be a rational explanation for all of this. Like I said before, if I was dead then I wouldn't be standing here talking to you."

"But even you admitted that was because there was no evidence otherwise. Now there is. Intangibility, experience your own death, others not being able to see you. This is the evidence you were lacking before. **You** are the evidence of an afterlife."

Alana's words whirled in and out of his mind like a cyclone. Beating down his wall of denial as all the evidence piled up. He couldn't explain away his intangibility with dreaming. He couldn't explain why he was physical to Alana and why only Alana seemed to be able to see him. He couldn't take not knowing what was wrong with him but wasn't willing to accept her reasons. He went over his scenario over and over again and he couldn't explain anything rationally. He had to get out of there. He needed to prove that she was wrong and that he wasn't dead.

Without saying anything he rushed out of the house and Alana followed him in pursuit. This was turning into a disaster very quickly. Zach was fast than he looked because Alana couldn't keep up with him even in the short distance between the library and the front door. It also didn't help that he was able to phase through the door while Alana was slowed down by having to open it.

The quiet suburb was teaming with people on their way to work and children waiting to go to school. Zach rushed into the street, desperate for someone to notice him. All the cars that passed by ran right through him; his body disintegrating into the ether to be collected together again, making him whole. He shouted at the kids waiting for the bus up the street. They laughed and played as they did not see the shirtless man, flailing about. Nothing seemed to be working and he was getting more and more upset.

"Zach! Zach, come back!" Alana kept shouting over and over again. Zach did not want to speak to her because she made his death seem more and more real. He needed to get as far away from her as he could possible get. He needed a safe haven…and he knew exactly where to go. He hopped in the next passing car, giving up the idea of one stopping for him.

Alana knew better than to try to stop the car that Zach jumped in. She was sure she looked crazy shouting at thin air. The looks from the school children and her neighbors were evident of that. Ted's concerned and baffled look was enough to make Alana try to explain herself.

Quickly thinking she said "Ummmm…Zach is my dog. He ran away."

Alana hoped that the choked up sound coming from her voice was brushed off as sadness over the loss of a pet. Ted gave her a sympathetic thin lipped grimace and head nod. As if he knew exactly was she was going through.

"You need any help looking for him? What breed is he?'

"Ugh he's…a dachshund. A small low to the ground dachshund and that is why you did not see him run out…and neither did I till it was too late."

So under pressure Alana will pull a dachshund out of her ass. What a whiney yippy little bastard of a dog.

Alana hurried into her house as to not waste any more time talking with her neighbor about an imaginary pet. She had to do something quickly if she wanted to catch Zach.

The first thing she did when she got in was get her issued blackberry. She needed to send out a message to all other Reapers in her dept and others that there was a very upset spirit on the loose.

**BOLO for Reap. wht/M/26 5' 11"** **brwn hair no shirt**

She sent out the mass text to her Reaper email list and prepared herself for the shit storm she knew would await her at work.


	12. Chapter 12

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

**If anyone would like to beta this fanfic, please feel free to contact me. **

Zach rushed through downtown DC, determined to find the Jeffersonian. He wasn't sure how he got from the car to the metro. It was all a blur in his hysterical search to prove that he was still alive; that all he was experiencing was a really long and terrible nightmare. The crowded public transit during rush hour passed through him and he struggled to keep his wits about him as he kept disintegrating into ether and reintegrating every few moments. People couldn't see him to give him space and passengers packed into the metro cars like sardine cans, so there was no room for him to stay whole. He remembered going in and out of consciousness constantly while people walked through him. He was cognizant of his surroundings enough to get to the metro stop he needed and he frantically traversed the Mall and in his confusion passed by the Jeffersonian. He wasn't used to having to make his way to work. Hodgins always drove him so it was always a straight shot. The very few times Hodgins wasn't able to make it to work another ride was arranged for him by either Angela or Dr Brennan. He did recognize some of the buildings though. He was right in front of the reflecting pool to The Monument, so he knew he was close to the Jeffersonian. All he had to do was make his way past all the trolling government workers and the early start tourists. He gave himself a moment to gather his head but concentrating was difficult. Death was constantly on his mind and his ability to deny its truth was getting harder and harder. No matter how many people he passed or passed through him, none of them would acknowledge his existence. Everything felt turned around and upside down. He could only hope that once he got his bearings straight he could find someone that could help him. Irrationally he thought that someone would be at the Jeffersonian. He did not have any proof or reason to believe that anyone at his workplace could help him. In fact, all the observational evidence pointed that no one could see him (except for Reapers but he was way into denial to even think of them) and therefore no one at the Jeffersonian could help him. But the Jeffersonian was a safe haven for Zach. He had always felt a connection and comfort with the building that he hadn't felt anywhere else. He felt that was where he belonged and where he would be ok.

Meanwhile…

Hodgins broke all speed limits to get into work. He was surprised he didn't get pulled over for reckless endangerment but he had to get to the Jeffersonian. He was a frantic mess and even Angela couldn't calm him down.

Their day had started off wonderfully. Jack woke up to the woman he loved, had the perfect job, and had great friends. His life was good despite the occasional job endangerment such as getting kidnapped by the Gravedigger, but everything else was perfect. He loved having Angela over because she made him feel safer. That someone he loved was with him and would make sure he wasn't alone again.

His chipper mood wasn't even tarnish when he walked outside and saw that Zach had taken out the trash (slightly shocked that Zach would do so with minimal threat of bodily harm) but didn't actually put it in the trash cans. It was a minor overlook and Jack wasn't about to let it ruin his good humor.

Jack and Angela got to the Mini and he was surprised Zach wasn't there to meet them. Hodgins looked at his watch to make sure he wasn't early and he wasn't. It was exactly 8:30AM and the genius wasn't anywhere to be found.

Jack frowned slightly because Zach was not one to ever deviate from his set routine. He was confused at the anomaly but brushed it off as something mundane.

"_He must be sick or something_."

As rare of an occurrence as it was, Zach has gotten ill before and it was one of the only reasons he would ever be late for something. It was a perfectly logical explanation and when Jack jogged up the stairs to Zach's apartment he contemplated taking his lunch break at home to keep his friend company. Zach was his best friend and he knew the genius would get bored staying at home with nothing to do.

"_Maybe I'll think up some math equations to entertain him for the day._"

He knocked on Zach's door, awaiting a reply to tell him that his friend was sick and that Jack should go on without him; but not without strict instructions on what type of chicken soup to get him from Whole Foods. Zach was very particular about what he ate, given that he only ever ate macaroni for lunch and dinner most of the time; only deviating when the team ate at the local diner and even then Zach ordered macaroni if it was on the menu. As with macaroni, Zach only ever ate one particular type of chicken soup in a particular type of container at a particular temperature. Zach surely was a little diva when he was sick but since it happened so sparingly, Jack was usually complacent to oblige his friend.

When nothing came from inside Zach's apartment, Jack was puzzled. He knocked again and still nothing. Jack pressed his ear against the door to see if maybe Zach was so sick that his voice was horse and Jack needed to listen in closer. He heard the rapid voices of what sounded like infomercials and that was when Jack started to really worry. Zach had a set routine even while sick and they never included infomercials.

He knocked even harder, hoping that he'd get the answer that he was hoping for. The answer didn't come so he turned the handle and to his horror it turned without resistance. The door was unlocked and that was very unlike Zach. Jack had always thought his home safe so he never understood why Zach always locked his door at night but now Jack was panicking thinking the worst.

"_Oh God, the Gravedigger got him_."

He rushed into Zach's apartment and he saw and empty living room with the television blaring the voice of some obnoxious actor proclaiming the virtues of some kind of exercise machine. A half empty bottle and bowl of macaroni were placed neatly on the living room table. It was obvious that Zach was taken. The place was otherwise undisturbed but Zach would never leave half drunk or eaten anything lying around. Zach certainly wouldn't leave his door unlocked or TV on all night.

Jack's heart started to race and he slightly started to hyperventilate. He was bombarded with images of his best friend trapped in some kind of metal casing, left in a dark hell hoping that his air wouldn't run out. Hodgins quickly ran to each room in the small apartment, hoping that he was wrong. That Zach was stuck somewhere very hurt but not kidnapped. Nothing came up and Jack's worst fears were coming alive. The Gravedigger had invaded his home and took one of the closest people to him. Jack's brain quickly processed the reasons why The Gravedigger would kidnap Zach. Zach's huge family was always provided for but none of them had any real means; At least not the type that The Gravedigger usually ransomed.

Then something dawned on Jack. While neither Zach nor his family had the means, Jack did. The Gravedigger's last attempt at ransoming money from the Cantilever Group failed because they had a strict "No Body, No Money" clause in their kidnapping policies. So while Jack and Brennan were slowly asphyxiating approximately four feet underground in her car, the Cantilever Group's hands were tied per his own policies. With Zach kidnapped, The Gravedigger knows that with Jack's wealth the serial killer will get the money he failed to get before.

A chill came over Jack at the thought of The Gravedigger knowing so much about his personal life.

Anger replaced fear as Jack sped down the stairs and back to his house, leaving a bewildered Angela to wonder what was going on. He was not going to let this psycho kill his best friend. He was not going to be helpless and let this monster take another person.

Jack was suddenly in his kitchen and on his landline. He dialed the memorized number of Booth, as the FBI agent was familiar with The Gravedigger case.

The phone seemed to have ringed for eternity but Booth finally picked up, slightly annoyed he was being called by a squint so early.

"This is Booth, what's up Hodgins?'

"Zach's been kidnapped by The Gravedigger."

This got Booth's attention and he suddenly wasn't annoyed. Worry pounded in his chest for the genius. While Zach was kind of weird, he didn't deserve to die alone buried only God knows where.

"OK, Jack. You need to calm down and tell me what's going on. Did you get a message from The Gravedigger?"

Booth quickly figured out why The Gravedigger would kidnap Zach. While Booth wasn't a squint he had enough sense to know the motivations of a greedy serial killer.

"No I was wondering if you guys had anything."

"Why do you think that Zach's been kidnapped then?"

"Because Zach isn't in his apartment!"

Booth was a little hesitant now and he started to calm down. It sounded like to him that Jack was jumping to conclusions. Just because Zach wasn't at his place didn't mean he was kidnapped.

"Jack. You can't just go shouting 'kidnap' without any proof."

"Proof? I have all the proof I need. Zach is not in his apartment. He left a beer and half a bowl of mac and cheese out. He would **never** do these things. He would never go anywhere without telling me. He can't drive and doesn't trust public transportation. He would never get up and leave without letting anyone know. He's missing and The Gravedigger has him!"

Angela walked into the kitchen with Jack yelling at the phone. She was very worried, both for Jack and Zach; the former because he seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown and the latter for being missing. Jack was right; Zach was afraid of vehicles so he wouldn't get into one unless he trusted the driver. Zach was also a creature of habit to the point of being obsessive compulsive. He would never break routine unless he was forced to. The artist didn't want to believe that he had been taken against his will, by The Gravedigger of all people, but it did seem like the team was a magnate for bad people.

She knew she had to calm Jack down though. Nothing would get done if all he was going to do was freak out and yell.

"Sweetie, you have to calm down. Let's meet Booth at the Jeffersonian and get things settled there."

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder and he visibly tensed. Jack saw that it was Angela and with her warm caring brown eyes he felt a bit calmer. He knew he had to calm down. He wasn't going to find Zach if he was ranting and raving all over the place.

"OK. Booth. Meet us at the Jeffersonian. We'll need all the help we can get."

And with that he hung up on Seeley and just as quickly started to dial another number.

Seeley didn't know Zach nearly as well as any of the Jeffersonian team did, much less Jack. He still wasn't convinced the forensic anthropologist was even missing but he was worried enough to go straight to the Jeffersonian instead of the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building.

Jack got his head of security on the phone.

"Larry. I want you to bring all the security footage from the last seven days to the Jeffersonian. I also want you to not step foot on the grounds beyond the front gate. I want a lockdown of the compound. No one gets in. Not the landscape crew. Not the maids. NO ONE gets in, you understand me?"

The grave tone in Jack's voice left no room for discussion and since Larry valued his job he did as Mr. Hodgins ordered.

"Yes, sir. It will be done right way, sir."

Jack was in no mood for pleasantries so he hung up without saying good bye. He didn't even motion for Angela to follow him as he went back to the garage and got into his Mini. Angela knew that Jack was far from being totally reasonable at this point and silently and quickly followed him. She didn't even say anything as he drove like a mad man through the streets of DC.

The team had gathered in the atrium, everyone slightly worried because of the panic Jack was stirring.

"Zach's been kidnapped by The Gravedigger."

Cam's eyes bugged out at the news and her heart constricted in her chest. She never thought in a million years that they would be in this situation again. Dr. Saroyan remembered all too clearly the fear that two of her teammates were at death's door and they had too little time to recover them. Her poor little Zacharoni trapped by a madman left alone to die in one of the worst ways possible. Zach didn't deserve this. He was such a kind if not really emotionally stunted young man. To be left to suffocate with no one around him was a type of hell she couldn't imagine. She shook her head to clear the negative thoughts. They were able to beat The Gravedigger once, they could do it again. If all else failed, then Jack would put up the money to save Zach and they'd get him back. Zach was a priceless member of the team and they all loved him in their own little way. They wouldn't put a small thing like money above such a dear friend.

"You need to stop saying that. We don't know that he's even been kidnapped." Booth cut in.

He was doing his best not to get the team into a frenzy; but at the moment, only Hodgins seemed any real type of agitated. He should have known that Bones wouldn't show much explicit concern. Seeley noticed that she had her "hmmm" face on where she was contemplating all the facts but wasn't about to do any kind of emotional outburst. Angela and Cam on the other hand looked fairly worried. Booth didn't necessarily doubt that Hodgins was scared and the entomologist had very good reason to be paranoid. Jack has been a victim of The Gravedigger and the villain was no joke. Still, it was not something to get ahead of themselves for.

"Would you listen to yourself? You think I don't know my best friend? He wasn't at the house, ergo he was kidnapped. Do your FBI thing and let's get the team to my house to look for clues."

"Let's think rationally about this for a second. Hodgins, tell us everything you know."

Brennan chimed in, ever the stoic face and even voice.

Jack went over all the facts that he had gathered at the house. 1) Zach is missing. 2) The television was left on all night. 3) Food and drink were left half empty and partially eaten. 4) The garbage was not put in the cans.

"So as far as we can tell he has been gone since the night before. No approximate time is able to be determined now and no other signs of a struggle besides the possibility that he had been taken against his will, if he's been taken, other than a misplaced full garbage bag. The bag could be explained by his own laziness. While he is a genius he had been noted to be somewhat slothful in his housekeeping. You've complained about it yourself, Hodgins. As for any actual kidnapping it is very unusual for Zach to go anywhere without telling you, especially his lack of ability to drive so he wouldn't get far without some mode of transportation, but concerning The Gravedigger; it is not his usual, as Sweets would say, Modus Operandi. He typically grabs from parking lots does he not?"

Jack nodded his head in agreement and as much as they were trying to rationalize what was going on, he couldn't shake the feeling something terrible had happened.

"Secondly, The Gravedigger always leaves some a distorted voice message. Now from what you've described at Zach's apartment, it seems that he'd been gone all night. The Gravedigger is a fast worker and would have left his ransom message by now, would he have not?"

Hodgins had been obsessively researching The Gravedigger so he knew all of Temperance's observations have been true. The Gravedigger has operated the same way for all of his victims and it wouldn't make sense to diverge from his M.O. now.

Zach had been there the whole time and none of them could see him. No matter what he did, he couldn't get their attention. They were all absorbed in conversation about him but couldn't see him. He yelled and ran his hands through each of them, hoping some how one of them would feel him as corporeal or hear him; as Alana had done. But so far only she had been able to see and touch him. Her words rang through his head, getting louder and louder; he was still doing his best to block them out but the truth was right in front of him. If the people who were closest to him couldn't see him, who could?

They brought up The Gravedigger as a possibility that he's become a victim of said serial killer. Zach jumped on this theory because it could fill some holes. If he was kidnapped and encased in some kind of underground or sealed off metal apparatus then his whole experience could possibly be an elaborate hallucination to deal with the stress of possibly dying. Delirium is different than dreams and has a whole new set of rules that could explain the predicament he's in now. There was also the possibility that he was astral projecting but that was totally preposterous, still better than being dead, but he kept it in the back of his mind in case anything contradicted his new delirium theory. Delirium is good though. Delirium is awesome. He's completely imagining what's going on and his brain finally managed to tell him that he's not dead but stuck in some mad man's hidey hole waiting to be rescued or die.

Zach suddenly felt a relief he'd never known in his life. He wasn't dead. Of course he wasn't dead. Things suddenly made sense in a way that he'd never known before. Once the team figures out where he is or Jack pays off The Gravedigger (Zach trusted his friend to save him no matter what happens) he is going to learn self-defense so as to not find himself in this situation again. Being kidnapped is not something he'd like to repeat. Especially if they led to delusions such as the one he was going through.

"This must be what I think would happen if I was ever kidnapped by The Gravedigger." Zach commented to himself observing the team making a plan on how to find him.

The Jeffersonian team went about their day, trying to figure out what to do about their friend.


	13. Chapter 13

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

**If anyone would like to beta this fanfic, please feel free to contact me. **

Alana scurried into work and went straight to Howard's office. She fucked up royally and she knew she had. She totally messed up telling Dr. Addy about his death and he ran away. She waited too long and put it off when she should have told him right away. He might have run regardless but it was a mistake to let him think he was anything but dead. Now she had to deal with the consequences.

She could feel the eyes of her fellow Reapers watch her go into Howard's office and they knew what was going on. She sent out an APB en masse so it wasn't like she was trying to keep her mistake on the D.L. She knew that the most important thing was to find Zach, so she wasn't too proud to ask for help. She just had to get through Howard's reaming and then go find Zach.

"_I am an adult and I can take criticism and chiding. I messed up and have to own up to it_." Alana repeated over and over to herself, gearing up to face her superior.

As soon as she stepped through the door, Howard was ready to tear her a new one.

"What the fuck happened Baily? How the **fuck** do you lose a Reap? This has got to be…"

Alana tuned him out because she knew the next several sentences were just going to be curse laden rants. When he was done, she calmly stated:

"He thought he was dreaming and when I pointed out his faulty logic and explained the best I could that he was dead, he freaked and ran."

"Dreaming? DREAMING? Where the hell would he get the goddamn idea that he was dreaming?"

"He..uhh..he though he was dreaming because he doesn't believe in the afterlife?"

Howard calmed down a bit because he knew the type of Reap she was dealing with because he's dealt with similar ones. Still losing a Reap is a big deal and not to be taken lightly. He wouldn't feel right unless he yelled at Alana some more.

"So why the hell did he run this morning instead of last night? His death was last night, correct?"

That was what Alana was afraid he'd ask. She'd been caught in her fuck up and since she was an honest person she had to give him the honest answer.

"Yeah…about that. I sort of let him think he was dreaming all night and didn't tell him he was dead till this morning."

"YOU DID WHAT?"

Howard's face was red and puffy from his anger and incredulity. If he wasn't already dead, Alana was sure he would have had an aneurism. Alana felt like she was in grade school again, getting yelled at by the teacher. Her throat constricted slightly and she fought back watery eyes of shame and remorse. She knew she fucked up and she was willing to take responsibility for what happened; but no matter how long she'd been alive and un-alive, she still felt that insecure feeling of not being good enough. She wouldn't let Howard get to her though. She wouldn't cry and she wouldn't break down. It was a mess but it was a mess she was willing to clean up. That's what was important and she needed to calm Howard down and get to the topic at hand.

"I let him believe he was dreaming and left him for the night. I didn't think that…"

"You're goddamn right you didn't think!" Howard yelled cutting her off. At this point nothing Alana could say would redeem her or be right. "How could you leave him alone for then night, much less let him believe he was dreaming? Of all the fuck ups you could have done, this one takes the cake. I expected more of you Alana. This is something I would have thought Brad would have done, not you."

Alana flinched at being compared to Brad. The Reaper was a nice enough guy, really fun to hang out with but he was a perennial fuck up when it came to his job. He was much more interested in living his unlife to the fullest with rampant drug use and unprotected promiscuous sex. He took full advantage of already being dead and he basically felt he had nothing to fear. So his Reaping usually occurred too late and he was constantly at the morgue trying to get to bodies and let their souls out. He usually ended up getting to them before the bodies were autopsied but some weren't so fortunate. So be compared to his work ethic was a low blow to Alana but she continued to hold her head up high.

"I think there are only two places he would have gone to. His profile and general demeanor from what I observed were that he was very unsocial and his job was his life. So he's either back at the Jeffersonian or at his apartment."

Alana refused to talk back to her superior and take the low road. So she opted to stay calm and make a plan to get things in motion. It was useless to bicker back and forth; Zach was the main concern and they needed to find him.

The wind was taken out of Howard's sail as it was hard to keep harping on someone who was adamant about remaining so damn calm. It was one of the infuriating things about Alana; she was almost impossible to goad into arguments and emotionally shut down if confronted about issues that no one could change. The Reaper was excellent at dealing with conflict because she never stooped to talking back or getting into petty arguments. But this time Howard wished she did so he could keep yelling at her. Alana was trying to prioritize and get Zach back and Howard begrudgingly accepted that was also what he needed to do. So he calmed down and took a deep breath. He thought about their options and concluded:

"We need to send people to both then. Sweep the areas and report back to us. You put out the BOLO so all Reapers in the field know to look out for him throughout DC. I doubt he got as far as Baltimore or NOVA but I'll check with Reaper cells in both areas. I want you to check out his apartment and I'll send some Reapers to his work. Hopefully he'll be at either place."

Alana agreed with the plan. Even though the Jeffersonian was closer, she couldn't risk being seen there again because she was sure that Dr. Addy's boss would recognize her. Dr. Brennan saw through her Reaper fog before and the forensic scientist would surely remember her. A strange woman revisiting the place of work of a recently deceased person would not make Alana look good.

Howard didn't say anything more and Alana took that as her cue to get out of his presence. She knew he needed a while longer to calm down and eventually he would forget about the whole thing. Alana had messed up big time but she was still one of his best Reapers. Howard wouldn't hold a grudge forever.

_**At the Jeffersonian…**_

Zach was bored beyond belief. The team was still piddling around, trying to figure out how to find Zach or other menial work. Hodgins' was getting more and more frantic that even Angela had given up and had given him space. Jack was not interested in being comforted, he wanted his friend back.

The Gravedigger had yet to give any kind of message for Zach's ransom, so Jack's brain was quickly imagining more and more elaborate prisons that The Gravedigger could come up with to need so much time. The Gravedigger already had Zach, what kind of monstrous contraption could he have come up with that would take so long? The worry shone on Hodgins' face and he was tense throughout his body. All he could do was think about his own nightmarish run in with the Gravedigger and how Zach must have it so much worse. Not only did he believe that The Gravedigger had put his friend in some kind of sadistic device but Zach was alone. Jack at least had Temperance and working together had gotten them out. He had no clue if Zach would keep a straight head in a life or death situation. The genius didn't have a lot of common sense when it came to dangerous circumstances. Their radical lab experiments were proof that they normally didn't pay heed to their own safety. Jack ran the gamut of emotion; he was angry that this monster was getting to him; he was scared as hell for his friend; he was frustrated that he couldn't do anything but wait; he was insecure about his abilities to be able to help his friend when the time did come to save Zach. If it came down to it, Jack would give up all his wealth to save his friend. It wouldn't be Plan A but it was something he'd easily be able to do for his best friend. Jack was determined to catch The Gravedigger and he would. He just needed a clue as to where Zach could be.

The day went on and still nothing came. And nothing would come from The Gravedigger.

_**In Jack's neighborhood…**_

Alana scoped out the grounds of the Hodgins' estate. The beautiful mansion sat on rolling green hills and had every amenity that even the wealthiest subdivision would envy. Alana could scarcely believe that Zach had lived here.

It took a lot of finagling but she was able to get more deets on Zach. The archives department of the undead was more guarded than Fort Knox. It held all the records for all those who have died. It was a closely protected area that no one was allowed in except to drop off their own paperwork of their Reaps. The slightly mildew scent of the collection was strong right out of the elevator. Only God knows how big or deep the section goes as thousands upon thousands of people die every day in the U.S. alone. Alana often wondered if they only collected the data from the East coast or perhaps the entire world. It didn't seem logical but with the digital age, it was possible to keep a lot more information and make more efficient use of space.

Alana also didn't see the point in keeping all these records. What did it really matter after they were dead? Would anyone actually read a random person's last thought? Does anyone care what the deceased's last meal was? Did hoarding this information till it turned to dust make the dead mean something? Alana didn't think it did and it was just another example of unnecessary bureaucratic red tape that demanded copies upon copies of every document but couldn't justify why there was a need for every form or report in triplicate. It all ended up shelved away never to be seen again; except then, when it came in handy.

The teller window to ask for information was blacked out, so Alana had no idea who (if anyone) was behind the counter. Reapers asked for the info and were either denied or given the files. There was never any sound or movement to be heard and it just added to the creepy factor. Many a Reaper came down here to try to get more info on their Reaps, trying to make their job easier but it was usually denied. There was a strict policy that Reapers were not to know too much about their Reaps so only the bare minimum of information was given but it was not all the Dept. had. So Alana patiently waited while the phantoms behind the glass worked their magic. They must have known it was a serious case because she got the information she wanted with a lot of begging.

With his home address she took the government car and made her way to Zach's apartment.

She was very surprised to see the mega mansion on Foxhall Road in the very affluent community of Foxhall village. Alana was also very astonished to see the wealth the Dr. lived in and wondered exactly how much a forensic scientist made. Alana cruised through the neighborhood admiring the Tudor style architecture that influenced the homes and thought she must have had the wrong address. She rechecked Dr. Addy's file and it was the right address but there was a note scribbled in.

Lives in apartment above the garage.

Alana thought that was very odd but didn't question it. She supposed he was from a rich family that didn't want to let him go but he wanted his freedom. So as a compromise, he moved out of the main house and into the garage apartment.

She was totally off but with so little information, Reapers usually made a game about filling in the holes.

She ran into a problem right away; the road to the main house was gated so she had to carefully plan on how she was going to infiltrate the grounds. She had to park several houses away and it was a hell of a walk but it wasn't like she had a choice. She finally got to a fence she could scale and she was happy more than ever to be a D.C. Reaper. They had training classes for the type of espionage she was currently engaged in. Alana supposed if Reapers were going to get paid then they had to work for it. That meant keeping in shape and taking classes on how to break and enter.

Alana noticed there was a definite presence on the premise and it wasn't just her. She hid well in the decorative shrubbery but there were people mucking about. Not a whole lot of people but enough to put Alana on edge. They seemed to be looking for something and she wondered if they knew Zach was dead. She thought there'd be more obvious police around but this seemed more like private sector work. None of the security guards had on blues but were dressed more like secret service.

"_Who the hell are you Zach?_"

It was clear to Alana that Zach Addy was more than a forensic scientist. She would have to wonder later because she had a soul to find.

She stealthily got to what she assumed was the garage by its doors but it was really more like a small house. It was dark inside the multi-car garage, made even darker by the sunglasses she was sporting. She didn't dare take them off in fear of video cameras. She'd have to call in a few favors from hacker Reapers that she knew to take care of any possible video evidence there might be. She knew she wouldn't be able to be identified but it still wouldn't do to have evidence of her sneaking around a dead man's apartment.

Frustration ebbed and flowed inside her as she found the empty apartment. She was pissed he wasn't there but sad to see the life he left behind. He loved science fiction from the DVD collection; played basketball from the ball in the corner; loved to read from the plethora of books. All these things he would miss, now that none of it was his any longer. It was a hard reality to accept; to be there but not really. All the things they accumulated over their lifetime would be put in boxes; given away or stored. Even Reapers couldn't take it with them.

Alana took a moment to study her new fellow Reaper from when he was alive. At least someone should know who he was and who he was to become. His friends and family would only ever know Zach as he was alive. Other Reapers would only know who he was as a Reaper. Zach would know both sides and mourn his life. Seeing all of who Zach was, she mourned for him too.

She didn't know if the guards would come running in any second but she took a moment to take in her surroundings.

She made her way to Zach's bedroom and it looked normal. Everything was still and silent but it was all so normal. One wouldn't be able to tell that the occupant of the room was dead and that he'd never get to see his room again. He'd never lay his head down on his pillows and he would never pull his royal blue covers over himself to keep him warm.

Alana sat down on the plush bed and was surprised at how soft it was. She sank in a couple inches but bounced back up as the bed supported her. The California King bed was definitely a luxurious one. She idly wondered what brand it was as she lied down.

She reveled in the softness of the bed and silky feel of the Egyptian cotton linens. While Zach lived above a garage, he certainly had a taste for fine things. Alana breathed in deep Zach's own scent; it was certainly more masculine than what she would think he would wear. He didn't seem he would be the type to wear cologne but the musky mahogany scent with patchouli and sage overtones spoke differently. She was slowly beginning to learn that there was a lot more to Dr. Addy than what he appeared. He was more than just some genius and science nerd. There were a lot of little quirks and habits that made up a person and it saddened her to think that with his new body, he might not ever know his own scent again. He could buy whatever cologne he used but it would never be the same as with his previous body. A Reapers body was completely different and new from what they used to be. When one died, only memories remained.

For some reason that thought struck a chord with Alana. An irrational urge to preserve what was once Zach Addy crept into her and shot her into action. Zach Addy deserved more than just memories and by gauging how he reacted to the news he was dead; he was going to need all he could get to make the transition easier.

She went to his closet and the masculine scent was on his clothes as well. As she took one of his many shirts to her face and inhaled; she realized what she was doing and quickly put the shirt down.

"_Baily, you are such a freak_. _No more smelling his things…no matter how good they smell._"

She was in total agreement with her inner monologue and started to pack a bunch of his things into a suitcase she found in Zach's closet.

"When he gets his new body, he's going to need clothes. He died shirtless so all he's going to have is his jeans, socks, and shoes. So he'll **need** these things. What better clothes than the ones he owned? Yeah…I'm sure Howard will accept that…he doesn't need to find out. It'll be my little secret with Zach."

Alana spoke to herself as she stuffed shirts, jeans, and other clothes Zach might need. She blushed slightly as she handled his underwear. He was a boxer briefs kind of man. She more or less kept trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing as she spoke the reasons why stealing Zach's clothes was a good idea. Stealing a dead man's clothes would only add to her guilty image if she was caught but the gods seemed to be on her side that day. She managed to sneak off the grounds with a large suitcase filled with men's clothes without being detected.

As she got to her car, a little breathless from the exertion, she thought she ought to thank her Reaper instructors when she got back to DOI because evading detection on acres of rich guy land and then walking briskly with a suitcase was not easy.

She took out her work Blackberry and dialed Howard; he would want to know the status of her findings.

"Baily, talk"

"He's not at his place. Has Jerry had any luck?" Alana inquired about her fellow Reaper.

"He's stuck in traffic, he refuses to take the damn metro."

"With the red line how it usually is, I'm not surprised. He might get there the same time either way."

Howard chuckled slightly at the joke because he knew it to be true.

"Why are you breathin' heavy?"

Alana hesitated a little bit because she knew she had to choose her words carefully. She had a good conversation going on with Howard and she didn't want to ruin the little progress she's made with him.

"There's security at the Reap's house." Not a Lie. "And I had to make a run for it after I found out he wasn't there." Also not a lie.

"Security? The guy has security?"

"Yeah it's crazy but he lives in an apartment above a garage that's bigger than most houses in the DC metro area. The guy is loaded. It seems like they're already looking for clues and stuff. I got out of there as fast as I could." Not completely true but true enough for Alana.

"Alright. Head back to the office. We'll have to wait to hear back from Jerry and anyone else who is in the field and might see him."

"O…" and then Alana was cut off. Howard hadn't waited for her reply. "_I guess he's still ticked off._"

Alana put the suitcase in the trunk and thought up ways to discreetly place the clothes from the company car to her personal vehicle.

In the distance, an observant security guard looking through binoculars took note of the model, make, and license place of the suspicious car that did not belong in the neighborhood as well as a description of the driver.

"_Mr. Hodgins would want to know about this_." Larry, head of Hodgin's security thought to himself as he got back to the task at hand. Dr. Addy was missing, according to Jack, and it was their job to figure out what happened.

_**Back at the Jeffersonian…**_

Zach was bored. He felt useless because he couldn't touch anything. He felt exposed because he had no shirt on but knew it was an illogical feeling, as all feelings are, because no one could see him. He was restless and wanted this ordeal to be over with. Still, imagining what it would be like to be stuck in some kind of apparatus with no space or air did not seem like the better alternative so he was grateful for his delusions in the end. He just wished that The Gravedigger would leave the message already so the team could figure out where he was and save him. Time seemed to be going a lot slower this day than any other. This case seemed to be going nowhere as well. As irrational as it sounded, he felt like all the other previous cases gone a lot more quickly. As if being notified of the body, doing the research, Bones figuring it out, and Booth making the arrest took no more than hour while that day it seemed to go on forever.

Zach could do nothing but wander about and he checked the work of everyone. Brennan's work was flawless as usual but Hodgin's calculations were off. Zach wondered what was wrong with his friend as Jack was usually never so careless.

Cam always seemed to be cold when he walked by. She still didn't take any notice of him but she definitely shivered whenever he walked by. He wondered if there was a broken air vent above her or if the Jeffersonian's air conditioning was set too high. At one point Cam had even looked behind her where Zach was standing and he had a moment of hope that she could see him. But she didn't. She never looked as if she could see him but had a confounded look on her face as if she expected him to be there but he wasn't. It was fascinating to Zach but when she started to ignore the goosebumps on her neck and in favor for her work, Zach quickly grew bored and continued to wonder about.

Even Angela seemed to be in rut because she was just doing sketches of Zach. He was in various poses but it was mostly his eyes that caught Zach's attention. Angela was a superb artist and it was something he always admired about Angela. While he was a genius and basically an expert on all things science, he could not get the hang of art. He did well enough at singing and music as there was a definite math component to both of them; art on the other hand had a certain quality that he didn't have. He accepted it as one of those things he wouldn't be able to understand. He would draw but be couldn't make it art. There was something always so stilted about his drawings that he couldn't rectify. Angela made expressions and brought out the humanity is art. It was why she was such an essential part of the team despite not having a doctorate.

The drawing of him seemed to have a sense of humanity to it as well and something in him was touched that Angela saw it. Others, particularly Booth, never noticed he was anything more than a walking talking encyclopedia and when he attempted to be more socially acceptable he always seemed to fail. Angela was always the one who would see past that and see the good person in Zach; someone who deserved patience and understanding despite his awkwardness. The eyes of the drawing were what amazed Zach. They were soft and this light in them that he didn't know he had. It was raw intelligence but also a genuine kindness in them; a lack of harshness and cynicism. This was how she saw him. None of the sketches had him smiling big but that wouldn't be Zach. They had small smiles, almost shy but still happy.

He didn't know where all these insights were coming come but since he started his delusions he's felt more than he's ever felt in his life. It's as if a door closed to him all this time had finally been opened and he can suddenly understand things a lot clearer. He can see that Hodgins is upset and that Angela is worried. He's not sure what Temperance is feeling, if anything at all, but there is something definitely different about him.

"_I wonder if being through a traumatic experience has finally gotten something through to me. Something my parents had wondered and worried about all these years_."

He still didn't understand a lot about emotions or body language but he felt that it was something that was starting to dawn on him. He couldn't wait to be rescued and hoped that this new insight would stay with him. Perhaps he could connect more with Jack, his best friend. Interact more naturally with Booth, a man he admired. Be more intimate with Naomi, his on and off again sexual partner. Finally "get" whatever she's been hinting at and keep them together longer than a few weeks.

Without a doubt, even without any kind of empirical evidence, he knew that his life was going to be different after all this was through.

He didn't know how right he was.


	14. Chapter 14

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

**If anyone would like to beta this fanfic, please feel free to contact me. **

Steve the UPS delivery guy dreaded his route. It wasn't that he had a particularly hard route. D.C. was D.C. and no matter what part, the streets were going to be hell and people were going to be pissed or happy to see him. Now certain areas were safer than others but all carriers had parts of their route in the unsavory parts of the city. It was because of the Jeffersonian. He hated to deliver to the Jeffersonian. It wasn't that it was full of pompous college educated scientists that thought they were better than him because he drove a truck while they looked through books and or microscopes every day. No he dealt with those kinds of pricks all the time. He was proud of what he did. He made a good honest living with benefits, so he didn't care what the others thought. No it was the stuff he had to deliver to the Jeffersonian. He's had a range of body parts to ancient artifacts. He especially hates delivering to the Medico Legal Lab as the scientists there were mad. Like tv bad guys mad scientists. He's heard stories about one of the very attractive carriers that said the scientists were fighting over who got a package of bear feces once. Another said he delivered a murdered man's jawbone.

"_Who does that?_" the delivery man thought to himself as he went through the Jeffersonian.

He could only hope that he got in and out of there in time to not see what was in the package. He knew that if he ever delivered anything like murdered human remains he'd have to get another job.

Steve would be applying to other jobs that very afternoon.

Temperance Brennan was looking aptly at a set of lumbar vertebrae, studying every facet to determine all that she could from the bones. She was just as passionate and obsessive about details as Zach was, perhaps more so since she was his mentor. This was menial busy work from Limbo as there wasn't anything else to do that day. She could be worried about Zach but without any proof that anything was wrong, she did not worry. All the hypothetical situations he could be in were locked away in a box somewhere in her mind where she would never have to deal with it. Losing Zach was not something she could tolerate so she didn't. She didn't understand other's inability to put things away where they belonged. The workplace was not a place to show inordinate amounts of emotion. It was for work; cold, clear, scientific work that needed complete focus and attention. Dr. Brennan was confused at Hodgins' worry. There was no evidence that Zach was fine or in danger, so clearly it was a moot point till other evidence presented itself. It was puzzling that someone as smart as Hodgins could only focus on the worst case scenario. So it was prudent to keep their heads about them till something came along. While Zach's absence was abnormal, it didn't necessarily mean he was in danger.

Any foreboding she had about the subject was separated from her thoughts and she went stoically about her day.

Despite receiving many unsavory items in the postage lately, Brennan didn't think to be afraid that this package had anything terrible in it. Statistically speaking, the number of packages with ill intent versus packages relevant to their job were negligible and therefore not worthy of consideration.

This was one of those times where the exception proves the rule.

She opened it slowly and methodically as she did with everything else. Inside was a perfectly preserved and cleaned human skull. Still, she wasn't worried as she dealt with human skulls on a daily basis. She did think it was a bit odd that she got one through the mail in a plain box packaging but there was nothing exploding nor was there any note to suggest that there was anything malevolent about the package.

The whole team was looking at her and she wasn't sure why. It was a package; nothing new and exciting. Unless it was about the bones itself then she was more than happy to tell them all she knew about it.

First off she knew that the skull had perfectly symmetry and something about it seemed familiar. The bone structure suggested Caucasian male and before she went any further into her investigations, she checked the box for anything else. She stopped still as she saw a shiny silver screw. She had seen screws like it before. It belonged to Gormogon and he wanted her to place the skull on his masterpiece. So it was not a skull for the Jeffersonian.

Brennan immediately composed herself and started to think of all the necessary steps to take to figuring out who the skull belonged to and what to do with it. She knew she needed to contact Booth and the FBI to let them know there was more evidence for their case.

As she continued to think over all the precise steps she needed to take, she gave the skull another once over and Angela had collapsed to the ground.

Unlike Temperance, Angela had always dreaded getting packages. They were always things she didn't want to know about, such as material for Zach and Jack's insane experiments. Or as of lately, awful things from serial killers like bones or hearts. This was by far the worst package of them all.

As Brennan had turned the skull to study its back, Angela got a clear view of the front. Quickly her brain was able to pick out the markers and put a face to the skull. The ghostly image she saw superimposed on the skull simultaneously stopped and broke her heart. The sheer anguish that hit her brought her to her knees. She knew would know that bone structure anywhere.

The team had rushed by her side but she could only see Zach's face on that skull. Tears blinded her eyes but she could still clearly see Zach's face.

All of Jack's worries were justified but not in the way he thought.

Jack was at Angela first and he didn't understand what was wrong. What would affect her so?

"Ange. Ange. Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

He questioned his girlfriend over and over again. All thoughts of work and Zach banished as he saw his lover in pain.

Angela was sobbing at this point and she couldn't get full sentences out.

He did his best to sooth her, rubbing her back and holding her in an embrace as she cried and cried.

Finally she was able to say "It's Zach."

Those two simple words shattered their world. The entire team seemed to be working in slow motion as Angela's words sunk in. They all stared at the skull and comprehended the meaning of it. Time stopped and the awful news worked its way into their reality at a dead slow pace to continue the grief for what seemed forever.

Zach was not kidnapped by The Gravedigger.

It was much, much worse than that.

It was Zach. Angela knew it from the skull as if he had been standing right in front of her. The human face she gave to the skull was someone she loved dearly like a brother. He was gone. Really gone and a monster had killed him. Emotions had never been hard for Angela to express but now it seemed that was all she felt was the sorrow of knowing her friend was dead. Not just dead but murdered. He was never going to ask her questions about the female sex ever again. She'd never get to see his smile as he took the moniker of "King of the Lab." There'd be a definite hole in the heart of the team that could never be filled. She let out all the pain and agony of loss she was feeling and she didn't care who saw her.

Brennan quickly put the skull down as if it was red hot and she couldn't stand touching it any longer. It was no longer an anonymous skull. It was a remnant of one of her team. Logically she knew that a skull was a skull no matter who it had belonged to but she couldn't bring herself to touch it anymore. She knew that she should keep touching it as it could have clues but it was one story of the bones that she didn't want to know. A familiar pain had risen in her chest, an ache she hadn't felt in a really long time. Not since her parents disappeared and she was left at her first foster home; the pain of loss and caring about that loss. She did her best to put it in a box and put it away but it was too great to ignore. Her breathing became heavy and her heart pounded in her head. She could literally hear the blood flow in her head as all senses fell away and all she knew was heartache. She suddenly felt dizzy and did her best to keep standing. Temperance had no idea what to do with these sudden symptoms. All she could do was stand and stare; pushing down the onslaught of emotion that welled into her.

Cam was a forensic pathologist which meant she had an iron stomach when it came to dealing with dead bodies in all manners of decomposition. She had seen bodies turned into soup and all sorts of foulness when she worked as a cop. But this was the first time she had ever been sick. The thought of what happened to someone so close to her made her stomach cramp and suddenly she could not hold her lunch. She went to the nearest trash can and emptied the contents of her stomach. Still that did not make her feel any better as the reality of the horrors the skull told pressed her mind. She knew something had been off. She'd felt it all day. The creeping coldness that crawled under her skin when she knew something bad had happened. That something was haunting the Jeffersonian. She never thought it would be someone so close to her heart.

"_Oh God. How could this happen? How could this happen to poor Zacharoni?_"

Tears fell from Cam's eyes as she thought of her personal nickname for Zach. He would never eat mac and cheese for lunch ever again. It was a thought too painful to bear.

This was the worst news Jack had ever received. He held tighter onto Angela as his own tears fell for his best friend. Nothing felt safe anymore except for Angela and he didn't know what he was going to do. His house wasn't safe. Work wasn't safe. Where could he go where Gormogon or The Gravedigger couldn't get to him?

Suddenly The Gravedigger seemed the better alternative. Now there was no saving Zach. Hodgins couldn't use his genius to solve this problem. He couldn't throw money at it if his abilities failed him. There was nothing he could do as Gormogon was a psychopath. The Gravedigger could be swayed with money but Gormogon didn't want money. There was no reasoning with that type of madness. Gormogon only wanted his masterpiece. The masterpiece Gormogon had already made Zach a part of.

Jack would be damned if he was going to let his friend's remains be part of that monstrosity Gormogon called art.

Guilt tore through him as his last words to him were "_Not even if you're being murdered; do not ruin this night for me. Do you understand?_"

His chest ached at the thought of last night with Angela. How could such a perfect evening held such horrors? How could he say that to his best friend when he knew there were serial killers on the loose? Regret pounded through his body as Jack knew he would never tell Zach how much he meant to him.

Zach was totally still through all of this. He saw his own skull in the hands of his mentor. He saw the tears of his best friend and his lover. He saw Cam become ill at the thought of his fate.

He was surprisingly calm about it all. His first reaction to seeing his dead body was hysteria then he told himself it was a dream. When dreaming wasn't a valid option he again became somewhat hysterical but then told himself it was a delusion. Now faced with this new evidence he knew he was dead. There was no denying it any longer. The reality of it all was too much for Zach to process so he shut down emotionally. It was a comforting reaction as he's felt that way most of his life. In his death feelings were much clearer to him. But even in death, one could be overwhelmed with emotion to the point one must shut down or else be swept away; possibly never recovering.

He slowly walked out of the Jeffersonian into the nearly empty outside world. His death didn't stop the world from going on as it had been. People were still at work, toiling their lives away much as he did. It all felt so different but he knew nothing had changed with his death in the big scheme of things. What was his life among millions?

He didn't know where he was going, if anywhere. He guessed he had to wander the earth now that his Reaper was gone. He had run away from Death and now he wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself. At the moment he didn't care; he was dead. What was there to care about?

"Hey you! Dead guy."

A loud voiced shouted to him across the street. Zach turned with no emotion to where the voice was coming from. It was a natural reaction to turn one's head to a loud command even if it wasn't directed at them. But it was intriguing to Zach that the term "Dead guy" was used. His brain processed that as a command aimed at him even if he didn't feel anything in terms that someone else could see him. An hour ago that would have been a great discovery but now he couldn't make himself care at all.

Zach saw a guy in an obnoxious red jacket casually eating popcorn across the street, starting directly at him. He wasn't sure if the male was talking to him so he stared at the stranger, not sure what to do.

The male pointed at Zach and the scientist was still not totally convinced the he was talking to him. So Zach looked behind him to see if there was anyone there that the guy could be talking to. There wasn't and when he turned back the male had lost his patience and ran across the street to where Zach was standing.

"Yeah I'm talking to you."

"You can see me?"

"Heh. Yeah I can see you. Kind of hard to miss a guy with no shirt on. I'm Jerry."

Jerry had gone back to eating his popcorn and people passing casually by were giving him strange looks as it seemed to them he was talking to nothing but thin air.

"I'm dead."

The way Zach said it had the male feeling sorry for him. He's had those kind of Reaps before, where it's was actually heartbreaking to hear them accept their death.

"Come on kid, you don't belong here."

Those words cut deeper than any Zach's ever known. It was the hardest thing to accept, that he didn't belong at the Jeffersonian any longer. All Zach could do was nod and look down. He followed Jerry quietly and the Reaper wondered how Zach would do as a Reaper. The kid was as sad as sad could be. If he thought being dead was hard, how would he take having to be a civil servant to the afterlife?

The ride was silent as was the walk through the Department of Integrity building. Normally Zach would have admired the engineering that had gone into building such a structure and terrified of the unsafe conditions the elevators were in but none of it seemed to matter any longer.

Other Reapers stood and stared at the soul following Jerry. It wasn't everyday that souls came to the office, much less with no shirt on. Zach didn't notice anything he just saw the ugly carpet and wondered how dirty it was.

Jerry led Zach to Howard's office where he and Alana were waiting.

Alana could not explain how relieved she was that Zach was ok. Not that anything terrible really could have happened to him since he was already dead but she was concerned nonetheless.

She saw the vacant look in his eyes and instantly worried about him all over again.

"Hey, Zach. How're you doing?" she asked as gently as she could as she walked up to him; took his hand and led him to sit down.

"I'm dead."

It was all he said but the emotion in his voice broke her heart. It was of complete loss. Not just of his own life but everything that was in it. He lost his job, family, and friends. Everything that ever mattered to him was now gone. He didn't know his fate as a future Reaper, so he had no hope for what was to come.

Zach felt the loss throughout his whole body…or what felt like his whole body. He still wasn't sure what souls were all about and didn't know how to describe what he was feeling. Not that he ever knew to begin with. This was one of the times he wished he was normal and could identify what he was going through. He thought perhaps it would have made it all easier.

"What made you finally accept it?"

She wasn't sure why she was asking him this. He was in enough pain already but she couldn't help but want to help him. The psychiatrist in her thought that if he talked things out it would help him move on.

"Their…their faces." He swallowed hard, remembering the look on his friend's faces when Angela saw the skull. "I could never imagine that kind of hurt or anguish. Not in dreams or delusions…or anything. I could never imagine it…so it must be real."

And that was it. That was what it took Zach to accept that he was dead; nothing that could be explained or shown to him. It had to be felt through the ones he loved and left behind.

Zach took his hand and put them to his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes but he couldn't stop them from overflowing. Once the first tear dropped, then another after another fell. He couldn't stop them and at this point he wasn't going to fight it. He had been fighting things all morning and it wasn't in him to continue. He let them fall and his shoulders shook from the emotion. He's never felt this much in his life and it consumed him completely. He didn't know how to control it so he let himself ride it out. He wasn't bound by the constrictions of Asperger's any longer. He could let himself truly feel something completely.

Alana couldn't help as her own hand went to brush away his tears. No one should have to be alone at a time like that. She cupped his face and he didn't pull away from her. He went deeper into her touch because it was the only other thing that he could feel. It felt nice and comforting and it was what he needed. He had never needed hugs or human contact like he needed them that moment. He didn't struggle when Alana pulled him close and he wrapped his own arms around her, getting as much contact as he could. He didn't know why but having someone hold him while he was hurting was one of the most comforting experiences of his life…or unlife.

All Zach could do was continue to cry for all that he had lost and would never get back.

All Alana did was hold him as his tears fell, not caring that he was wetting her shirt or that Howard and Jerry were watching them. She held him and would hold him as long as he needed.

It was enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

Zach had cried all the tears he had to cry and suddenly he had no more. There was an inexplicable lightness he felt. All that hung heavy upon his shoulders with his death seemed to have lessened and he was able to calm down. The onslaught of motion was new to him, as was the release of said emotions through tears. He had cried before, when something had hurt but it was more of a response of his parasympathetic system to physical pain rather than an emotional response. Alana's embrace had helped a lot too. He had never understood the need to be held, not since he was very young, but he had to admit that in stressful situations it could be a great help.

He finally calmed down enough where tears weren't streaming down his eyes and he could breathe normally. He released himself from Alana's embrace and she was there with a comforting smile. The male at the desk had come to him and offered him some tissue. Zach felt a little embarrassed, breaking down like that and he was sure he looked like a mess. It was one of the times where he wished rhinorrhea didn't accompany lacrimation. Still, he accepted the tissues gratefully and tried his best to compose himself.

When Zach reached for the tissues and his hand went through them, Howard ushered an apology and looked a little embarrassed himself. The head Reaper quickly sat back at his desk and pretended as if he didn't accidently offer tissues to a soul who couldn't use them.

The other two males didn't make any comment about Zach's breakdown and he was grateful for that as well. If they had been anywhere or anyone else, Zach was sure some sort of malicious teasing or a maligning against his manhood would have been stated. These males did nothing of the sort; there was just this stilted kind of silence like they were all trying to figure out where to go from there.

He was amazed when he realized that as soon as his emotional fit was over, all the tears and mucus he produced disappeared. It was as if he never broke down at all. He supposed it had something to do with the soul aspect of his existence.

"_I must only produce and mimic physical actions now that I don't have a physical body. Interesting. Very interesting_."

Zach was confused at the other Reapers hesitation since he was under the impression that since he accepted his death, wherever souls go to the afterlife would be the very next step.

This created a new sort of anxiety in Zach because as an empiricist he had never believed in any type of afterlife, much less a Higher Being. So all the warnings of hell and punishment for the unfaithful started to invade his mind; filling him with a fear of the unknown of his place in the hereafter.

"Zach" the one at the desk finally said. "As you've figured out, you're dead. Welcome to the afterlife," he said in a somewhat genial sort of way.

Zach felt like he had just been welcomed to a hotel. He was getting more and more confused by the moment. Logically he knew he shouldn't have had any expectation of an afterlife since until that moment he didn't believe in it but if he did, he was certain it wouldn't have involved an office at the Department of Integrity and everyday government workers.

"_If these plebian are minions of Death, then who else could be a Reaper?_"

Of all the things he's heard about the personification of Death, he was very baffled as to where people got their inspiration. Here he was among three Reapers and none of them were scary or intimidating in the least. They looked extraordinarily harmless. There was no black sweeping cloak. No menacing scythe to cut the soul from its mortal coil. They looked like the everyday government employee in their business casual, very casual in Jerry's case, with badges and everything. If he hadn't found out he had died a few moments ago Zach would have been far more bewildered.

"_I wonder if anything else exists. Like vampires. Is __**Buffy**__ real_?"

His eyes slightly bugged out at the thought of his favorite supernatural female could possibly exist.

As the possibilities of other things he was certain didn't exist now could possibly exist, he missed a lot of what Howard was saying.

"…Alana will be your guide while you go through your transition."

That piqued Zach's interest.

"What transition? Don't I just crossover to the other side?"

Zach had very little knowledge about the afterlife but he questioned the most notable aspects that he could remember. Sunday school was coming back to him in bits and pieces.

"No, it's more of a…process." Howard paused, trying to explain as best he could without giving away too much too soon. "You will be guided through stages, if you will, of your death. It's kind of a closure exercise."

"But I don't need closure. I know I'm dead."

"Right…you know you're dead but you probably haven't been able to say good-bye to your life. It won't really hit ya till you see your casket lowered into the ground and see your loved ones say goodbye as well."

"Why would I need to do that? I'm dead, it' not like being able to say goodbye to my life would have any impact on what I've left behind. As far as I can tell, no one is able to see me so the action of saying goodbye is superfluous and purely sentimental. I am in no need of such sentiments. Unless the physical and vocal aspect of saying goodbye is a mandatory part of being let into the afterlife as appointed by some Higher Being. "

"Not an actual physical goodbye but a metaphorical one…you know where you see your burial and really know that it's over. And don't worry about a Higher Being."

"I don't understand. I saw my own death and saw my skull in the hands of my boss. I don't understand how more evidence would bring me to the conclusion I've already some to. And what do you mean by 'don't worry about a Higher Being?' Are you saying there isn't one? If not then how is all this possible? And why would I need to do these steps if it's not mandated by a superior?"

"Look, kid. There're steps you have to take so just shut up and take them."

Howard finally said exasperated from Zach's questioning and rationalizations.

"Now, any further questions?"

"Well…" Zach began to say.

"No?" Howard interrupted as he had no intention of hearing or answering any questions Zach may have had. "Great. Alana, take the newbie and get him out of here. You don't have any Reaps for the next couple of days. Jerry, try not to fuck anything up."

Jerry looked slightly incredulous but after a pause he admitted that he had a tendency for shenanigans, even without assignments.

Zach took Howard's dismissal in stride as he was used to Booth ignoring and brushing him off because the FBI agent didn't feel like interacting with him. It was apparent to Zach that death wasn't all that unlike life.

The two Reapers and the newly deceased exited the office with no objection. Alana took Zach down to the garages and Jerry went to his cubicle to write a report on the Reaps he did for the week.

Alana was silent for the elevator ride down. The ancient lift seemed to be taking longer than usual but she wasn't sure if there was something wrong with it or her dread about being alone with Zach.

Tension started to tighten in her stomach as her anxiety spiked. Zach looked completely unfazed and she wondered what he was thinking. Death was a lot to take in and he'd be even more overwhelmed in the upcoming days. Becoming a Reaper was an emotional process and she had no idea how he'd handle the news of his new job.

"_I will not make the same mistake twice. I will tell him straight out once his transformation is complete. No more giving false hope just to get more sleep… or for any reason._"

She looked behind her as she walked through the dark cement labyrinth that was the DOI underground garage. Zach was a million miles away somewhere. Guilt bubbled in the pit of her stomach as she knew she was part of the reason Zach took his death so hard. If only she had insistently told him instead of giving up and putting it off till later; at the same time letting him think he was merely dreaming, it was an unnecessary hardship she put him through and she felt terrible about it.

Zach was silent as he got into the car and as they left the garage. After several minutes that felt like an eternity, guilt keep building up in her till she couldn't keep it in anymore.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked out, her voice going many octaves higher than her normal tone.

Zach turned to her with a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. Her sudden high pitched apology confused him; he was not expecting anything like it from her.

"Sorry about what?" he asked in a gentle tone, it gave her hope that he wasn't the grudge holding type.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier that you were dead."

A few beats of silence filled the car and Alana felt like she had to expand more on her apology.

"I should have told you that night and not gone to bed till you knew you were dead."

"Ah. Yes. That was a mistake on your part because the entire night I was under the impression I was dreaming which was facilitated by my own denial and reinforced by your implicit acquiescence. It was not pleasant to find out I was dead after the hope that I would wake up."

Zach wasn't being unkind but his cavalier way of pointing out her mistake made her feel even worse. At that point she wished he had yelled at her because she felt like she deserved it. His facial expression never changed so she had no idea if he was pissed she didn't tell him or if he just didn't care about anything enough to have emotions about it.

"_If I were him, I'd be pissed off beyond all recognition_."

His lack of emoting was making her insecure and in need of his forgiveness. She didn't expect it right away but she was hoping he'd give her some kind of absolution eventually.

"On the other hand I am aware that there isn't a good or easy way to tell someone bad news. It's why I am never allowed to go with Booth to next of kin meetings because I do not possess the social skill or ability to empathize with the family to tell them devastating news; although recent events were very eye opening when it comes to death. So while your actions weren't the most efficient nor did they ease any anxiety with dying, there is at least a 93% chance that I would have reacted negatively no matter how you told me and got through to me."

If Alana understood any of that, she thought that was the closest she'd get to forgiveness from Zach Addy. He asserted that how she handled the situation was wrong but recognized that there was no "correct" way to tell someone their dead and ease their fears. He honestly didn't seem angry that she did what she did, just observant that it was the wrong thing to do.

Zach Addy was a fascinating person.

"_I wonder who Booth is, a colleague?_"

Alana found herself wondering a lot about Zach's previous life but knew it wasn't the time to ask. She wasn't the only one with questions.

Zach was unsure how to ask Alana the questions that were bothering him. As a genius and overall curious person, he wanted to know everything about what was expected of him. What steps he had to do in the "process" of death. Experience had taught him though that in some situations, usually with Booth, that people did not want to be bothered with questions; especially if it involved applying logic and the scientific method to illogical concepts like religion or, in Zach's case, death.

His inability to grasp concepts like tact and subtlety made him impatient and he decided to ask whatever question he wanted. Alana reminded him of Angela and hoped she'd be just as patient and kind.

"What step should I expect to take next?"

Alana wasn't surprised at his question and it was a valid one. This was a completely new experience for him that he had no basis in what to expect. For the longest time he'd been under the belief that there was no afterlife and now he was proven wrong. Even if he had some faith in an afterlife he wouldn't know what to do so Alana tried her best to answer him.

"Well the first step would be to see your remains. I know that you say your body right after…" she cringed at remembering how he died. He didn't seem fazed, as usual, and she went on. "…but you still need to see the remains as they prepare you for burial."

Zach took the information in and stoically he replied.

"That might be a bit difficult because of the circumstances of my death."

"Yes, because you were murdered there might be an issue if they can find your body, wherever the murders have dumped it."

"That and they cannibalized my body, so just finding my masticated body would be quite the challenge."

Zach's casual way of saying he was eaten was almost lost on Alana but she definitely heard the word "Cannibalized."

Startled, she abruptly looked at Zach; disbelief written on her face.

"What do you **mean** cannibalized?"

"Cannibalized - past tense verb of to cannibalize. In laymen's terms: I was…WE ARE IN IMMEDIATE DANGER OF A CAR CRASH!"

Zach didn't get to finish his explanation because the fear of an imminent death, which was redundant in both their cases, caused him to shout. Zach's loud warning shook Alana out of her shocked inattention and narrowly missed crashing into the lane over's oncoming traffic.

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!," Alana squealed as she straightened the car and got into the proper lane.

After a few moments when their hearts stopped beating a million miles a minute, they were able to compose themselves. Alana's breathing was heavy and quick as the possibility of what could have happened played over and over again in her mind. Logically she knew it was silly as she couldn't die but it didn't mean that getting into an accident was any less frightening.

Zach was composed as ever. He knew he should be having some kind of physical reaction as Alana was but his logical mind and observations told him it wasn't needed. He was already dead and he wouldn't have felt any pain. Still, he knew that it was a frightful event and that if he had been alive he would have had the same reaction as Alana. He felt a little empty at the revelation. He knew that Booth had always thought of him as a robot but it wasn't till he didn't feel or react at all was when he truly felt less than human. After the initial shock of almost crashing into another vehicle, Zach did not experience anything beyond that. His body, or specter, remained calmed and unchanged. He experimented with breathing and even that was superfluous.

He truly wasn't really there. What was there was confusing and he was unable to quantify. He did not like this aspect of death. He wanted to be back in his life with a body; where everything made sense. In this afterlife, he was filled with doubt and uncertainty. It also didn't do much for his genius ego where he knew that there were things he didn't know and couldn't comprehend. In the hereafter he felt clueless and it was not a pleasant feeling. He thought perhaps he ought to have been kinder to those who were his intellectual inferiors as not knowing something beyond his comprehension was not a nice feeling.

"_I wonder if this is what Booth feels like when he's around Dr. Brennan, Hodgins, and me_."

"OK, right. Sorry about that. What were you saying about cannibalism?" her desperate inflection indicated that she was really hoping he didn't mean cannibalism.

Zach hesitated because he was nervous that if he did explain further then more incidences like the one that just occurred would happen again. After thinking about it he deduced it wouldn't have mattered since he was already dead and she was a supernatural being and assumed Death wouldn't take one of its own workers.

"My murders were part of some kind of cannibalistic cult that eats its victims and then uses specific parts of their bones for a statue."

"_**OMG**_." Were the only thoughts that Alana could process at the moment. The vile act of eating human flesh made her stomach turn and her lunch was dangerously close to evacuating. She told herself to stop thinking about it. Unfortunately the more she told herself to stop the more she thought about it. Unwanted images of the soulless monsters chowing down on Zach's various body parts were too much for Alana. She quickly pulled over into the emergency shoulder and exited the car.

On grassy knoll on the side of the I495 Capital Beltway, Alana lost her lunch.


	16. Chapter 16

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

Alana wretched till her stomach could not offer anything else. She still felt nauseated by the unwelcomed images of Zach's unfortunate fate but she was double glad she was able to pop his soul well in advanced of his death. Another wave of nausea swept over her at the thought of what he would have had to go through if she left his soul in his body as insane men cooked and ate him.

She had a completely new respect for the scientist. He could have been weeping in a corner or been belligerent to the world. She wouldn't have blamed him one bit and he still might but so far he had taken everything very well. He freaked out when his denial of his death was threatened and he had a good cry when he finally accepted he was dead but it was still a very tame reaction considering the events surrounding his death.

Suddenly all her moping about her own death after it happened seemed very trivial and immature.

She also felt very embarrassed because she lost her lunch in front of him. She hoped that she didn't look like a total mess or that he would ask about why she suddenly looked so red. Thankfully for Alana, Dr. Addy was not prone to notice any type of emotional response; even one as apparent as mortification.

She quickly got back into her vehicle and Zach followed suit. Even though he couldn't smell anything in his spirit form, she slyly reached into her car cubby hole and popped in some mint gum. She was nervous to be around him, mostly because she was self-conscious at her earlier missteps and vomiting in front of him. A part of her was mad at herself for being so flustered around her Reap and future co-worker.

"_He's just like any other Reap and he'll be just like any other co-worker_."

But the weird twisted feeling in her gut and how she reacted to his big puppy brown eyes told her differently.

Zach looked out the window and didn't notice Alana's sideways glances at him. She thought it was all for the best because two Reaper's getting involved was a big no-no. Not officially but it was common sense. They only stayed in one area ten years at a time and each Reap had a different amount of souls they were supposed to pop. So Alana had no idea if she was supposed to Reap for another fifty or a hundred years. She could go at any time and not know till the very last Reap. Their un-lifestyle didn't leave a lot of room for relationships.

"_We live on the fringes of society. We get to look but not have. Such is the way of the Reaper_."

It was a hard lesson to learn but she learned it, God did she learn it. She idly wondered how long it would take Zach to know he could never go home again.

They were back at her house in Rockville and her mind raced with what she needed to do. With the new information surrounding his death, Alana was sure the case got a lot more complicated.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Zach asked.

She hesitated a moment because she didn't know how to explain that part to Zach. He didn't seem to understand the need for the process of seeing his remains, burial, and wake. Normally these things were superfluous and not needed. A typical soul would see their lights and then crossover with none of the fan fair. She needed to say her words carefully because she didn't want another debacle like the one they just had. She also couldn't tell him the full story yet because he definitely wasn't ready for that. So she tried to be as plain and clear as possible and hope for the best.

"Well normally we would wait for our people in the morgues to let us know where your remains are and you would then see them do their mortician thing."

"That is going to be difficult as I'm sure most of my remains were consumed."

Alana turned green at the thought and she was glad she had thrown up all she had to wretch on I-95.

"Right…that is going to be tricky…I'll have to make some phone calls and see what we're supposed to do."

"I suppose that they could find my skeletal remains and that would be sufficient for the process."

Alana hadn't thought of that and told herself to remind herself to bring that up.

"Yeah…I guess some remains are better than none at all."

"So after I look at my remains, which I still think is superfluous and unnecessary since I have already seen my dead body, what would we do after that?"

"Ummm…we would then go to your funeral. See your body…or whatever is left…laid to rest and then go to your wake. See the people who loved you and say goodbye."

This was an awkward conversation and Alana really hoped it would be over soon.

"Hmmm…that also might be difficult."

She was afraid to ask but she did anyway, "Why?" 

"It is highly probably that my family would take my remains to Michigan for the burial and subsequent religious rituals pertaining to my death."

"Shite," Alana said with a frustrated exhale. She immediately got out her Blackberry and began emailed Howard. She needed to get a plan together to deal with Zach's particulars; his death was a lot more complicated than anything she has ever had to deal with.

"Sorry, Zach but you're going to have to hang tight for a bit. I need to sort things out with how to get your through your process."

"I don't understand how hanging tightly has anything to do with it. And what am I supposed to hang onto?"

"Ummm…it's an expression. It means that you have to wait while things get done," was the best she could come up with.

That seemed to satisfy Zach.

"Oh. Right. I'll be in the library."

They spent the rest of the day like that; Zach reading from the extensive library collection and Alana going over logistics with other Reapers on how to get Zach through his process.

_Meanwhile…_

There was turmoil at the Jeffersonian. The team was in shambles because of the news and Booth was at a loss of what to do. The new break in the case not only broke down half of the Jeffersonian team, the question of whether the team could handle the case any longer had been brought up.

Bones was in a meeting with the FBI agent in charge of the Gormogon case, fighting to stay on. The FBI agent was claiming the Jeffersonian team was emotionally compromised and wasn't suited to do further work. Bones argued the Jeffersonian team was the best the FBI had and the only ones suited to solve something as difficult as the Gormogon case. She insisted that the death of one of their teammates would not affect their work as their friendship with Zach was completely separate from their profession.

The Agent did not believe Bones and made no secret of it.

Booth did not like how his fellow agent talked about the case but he did agree. Hodgins and Angela were nowhere near emotionally capable enough to work on the case without getting involved. Even Cam was highly upset and she was one of the most professional people he knew.

Seeley wasn't sure he could be on the case either. He and Zach had never really gotten along; guiltily Booth knew it was mostly because of his inability to stand the scientist for long periods of time but he was still close enough that he was affected by what happened.

An empty pit of despair grew inside Booth as he thought about what happened to Zach. It would be bad enough if the forensic anthropologist was murdered; plain, simple murder like a mugging gone wrong or a fight that went too far. Booth could get angry and make sure justice was carried out swiftly and with extreme prejudice; but this was beyond just being murdered, Zach was murdered for no sane or logical reason then eaten. The thought of someone he knew and saw pretty much every day eaten turned his stomach and Booth was certain he would become a vegetarian after that day.

It was a complete mess of epic proportions. It was not how things were meant to be. Booth was supposed to come in with a new case. Him and Bones, sometimes Zach as well, would survey he scene. Bones would rattle off some smart persons jargon that only Zach would get. Angela would give a face to the victim and further insight to how they died. Booth would empathize with the victim's family and give in his two cents that were either ignored or mocked by the team (Angela being the exception). Zach and Hodgins would then do some kind of crazy experiment that would be a huge break in the case and then lead Bones to have an epiphany that would solve the case. Easy. Efficient. Effective. Teamwork that would have a case wrapped up in no more than a week. They were the most efficient and prolific case solvers the FBI had and now the team was broken.

To Booth, Zach was a weird awkward squint that wouldn't know a metaphor if it bit him on the ass but he was Booth's weird awkward squint.

Seeley never thought he'd feel loss if anything would ever happen to Zach and now that the scientist is gone, he wished today had never happened. That he would have focused more on the Gormogon case and not the case of the week.

The questioned that burned inside him the most was, why? Why did Gormogon go after Zach? It didn't make sense. Sweets' psych profile of Gormogon didn't hint at going after anyone like Zach and it didn't seem on par with the killer's M.O. According to the tarot cards in the vault, the next victim should be The Hermit. The card depicted an old man with a log white beard, a walking stick, and a lantern. Sweets described the Hermit as someone wise, old, and a loner; someone who was philosophical and inflective. Zach was brilliant but Booth wouldn't consider him wise. The scientist took things literally and at face value. Zach also had friends and Seeley would hardly call him a hermit either. A bit weird and had the social skills of a stapler remover but he had burrowed his way into the hearts of the team. Dr. Addy also had a very loving family that he visited during his breaks. Booth could not wrap his mind around Gormogon's thought process, not that he could before, but this area was much more Dr. Sweets' expertise and Booth hoped to get some sort of insight.

Speak of the devil…Lance Sweets made his way into the Legal-Medico lab and he looked as disturbed by the day's events as any of them. Booth couldn't recall a time when the psychiatrist looked so agitated. The normally laid back but perceptive doctor seemed out of sorts and it was clear he wanted to help.

Booth laughed a little to himself because of all of them, Sweets should know that nothing would ever make them feel better about this. There was nothing anyone could say, not even the brilliant Lance Sweets who could see so much more than a normal person, which would make any of what they were going through okay.

Bones had finished talking with the lead agent, Agent Gregory, she looked none too happy. Booth could guess from her body language and facial expressions that the team was kicked off the case. He had seen it coming but it was one of the few times that Bones showed any emotion so he knew she was hurting even if she didn't know herself. He ached to reach out to her and make her feel better because he hated when she hurt most of all. He found the anger he was looking for when he saw Dr. Brennan as distraught as she was. He would do whatever he could to help her and the team because of the feelings he had always denied himself before. With Zach's death, Booth saw how easily and unexpectedly those around them could be gone. He didn't want her to hurt and it made him even angrier knowing there was very little, if anything, he could do to help her; but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

When Brennan realized Dr. Sweets was in their midst her eyes took on a coldness that Booth had never seen before; unfeeling and apathetic, yes but never this cold hatred that radiated off of her. Seeley never thought he'd have to intervene in an emotional outburst from Temperance; but if he didn't know any better the he would think that Bones was about to attack Sweets.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Sweets.

Lance had immediately picked up the nuances of her tone and he knew she was angry to see him. He wasn't sure what he did to incur such sentiments, other than she was obviously under a lot of stress and psychic pain from losing Zach, and she was never particularly glad to see him. His ability to read body language and detect subtle shifts of moods told him that she was about to unleash a hailstorm upon him.

"I was paged and filled in what happened. I am deeply sorry…" he tried to give his condolences because it was the compassionate thing to do.

Bones was not interested in Sweets' compassion. Unbeknownst to herself, what she really wanted was to hurt someone as badly as she was hurting; Sweets was a convenient target.

"You are not needed here _Dr_. Sweets."

The way Brennan said "Dr." clearly indicated to Lance that she believed he did not deserve the title. He mentally prepared himself for the numerous put downs to his profession that she normally implied or outright stated.

"It has become abundantly clear you are not needed or are even remotely useful. I have always held the belief that psychology is a soft science and recent events have proven my assertions. We have wasted time and resources following your leads from your psychological profiling that have been completely worthless in our case. Not only were they ineffective but the time we've gone over irrational motives, illogical archetypes, and pure speculation could have better spent on real evidence. All you have managed to do is waste our time and put the team in harm's way."

Lance was stunned into silence. Temperance had managed to not only completely disregard his help and his profession but put the blame of Zach's death on his shoulders. The initial pain and humiliation he suppressed, concluding that he could work through those feelings later. He had been in the business long enough to deal with patient's emotional outburst and lashing out. A part of him even felt the irrational guilt of his inability to correctly identify Gormogon's next victim. He had gone by the evidence that was presented to him from the vault and Gormogon's previous victims. He thought he was on the right trail in identifying the next victim but it turns out the thought process of Gormogon was a lot more loose and open to interpretation than originally thought. Even with all the logical reasons he told himself, he still couldn't help but feel the sting of Dr. Brennan's words. That he was inadequate and unable to help; that their time was wasted with his reports and his professional opinion. That it was his fault Zach was dead. If Bones was looking to go for the jugular, she had marksmanship aim.

The rest of the team was astonished as well. They never thought to blame the psychologist and couldn't believe Dr. Brennan would make such an accusation. It wasn't fair for Bones to blame Sweets for not identifying Zach as Gormogon's next victim. They were sure none of them saw this coming. They didn't understand why Temperance would say such a thing.

Sweets did know and it was why he wouldn't lash back at her and defend himself heatedly. The others didn't pick up the slight tremor in her voice or the subtle wetness in her eyes. She was angry, hurt, and confused. She never could deal with her internal pain very well and lost herself in the cool uncaring façade she put up. What she thought was a perfectly logical explanation for the loss of Zach, Dr. Sweets saw as rationalization to deal with her own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. Lance could see how much Zach's death affected her and he knew he had to choose his words very carefully.

"Dr. Brennan, it's very normal to be as upset as you are when losing a loved one. Lashing out is perfectly…"

"Do not presume to know what I am feeling, Dr. Sweets."

The dangerous low tone in her voice warned him not to press the issue any further. As much as he wished to run away from the scarily brilliant Dr., Lance knew this was a button he should push. It wasn't often Temperance showed any kind of vulnerability and it was a shame this was what brought it about but it would be a disservice to Brennan to not explore these feelings and show the more human side to her, so he pressed on.

"I know that you have trouble expressing any type of vulnerable feelings or emotional pain but it is ok to be hurt and angry. You just lost another very important person in your life and it's a lot to deal with. Losing Zach…" 

"Do **not** give me some feeble minded platitude about losing a loved one. Zach is dead and there is nothing we can do about it. There is no point in being over sentimental about something we can't change. All there is to do is find Gormogon before he strikes again. Since you have proven useless on the case, your services are no longer needed. I am also terminating our therapeutic relationship for the same reasons."

Temperance didn't leave any room for argument and purposefully didn't mention the team was kicked off the case as she had no intention of letting the case go; she walked deceptively calmly out of the Medico-Legal Lab.

The awkward silence was broken by Agent Gregory. The no nonsense agent had places to be and breaking the news gently was not in his nature. He was astute enough to know the quicker he got this out of the way the quicker the team could focus on grieving.

"I'm sorry to tell you that the Jeffersonian team, including Agent Booth, is off the serial killer known as Gormogon's case. We will be handing the case to our own internal scientific team I want to thank you for all of your time and service so far. I hope you understand why this must be done and it is not a reflection on your work or your abilities. Agent Booth, would you please walk me out?"

Seeley nodded and walked his superior out of the Jeffersonian.

There was a black cloud that hung over the lab and everyone was at a loss of what to do next. They were kicked off the case so they couldn't work to solve Zach's murder. They were in no state of mind to work on any other case. They were lost and unsure; unable to comfort themselves.

Camille steeled herself and decided to take on the role of leader. She could be strong for the others and she knew they needed some kind of guidance. She went to Lance first; as the Dr. looked the most depressed she has ever seen the usually chipper psychiatrist.

"Lance…" Dr. Saroyan started and laid a comforting hand on his arm. She remembered him saying that making contact helped in expressing concern. "She didn't mean…"

"Yes she did Camille. She meant every word of it," Lance interrupted her. It was a nice gesture but there was no sugar coating Dr. Brennan's harsh words. He gave her a tight smile to let her know that her attempts at consoling him were appreciated.

All Camille could do was nod in agreement and left it at that. The pain and loss of Zach could not be put into words and Lance knew enough not to try. It was a grieving process and they would all deal with it in their own ways. All Sweets could do is be there for them, even Dr. Brennan despite her insistence that she was fine, and lend a sympathetic ear.

He decided to give himself some time to grieve as well. He probably knew Zach the least since the scientist was the only one of the team who had never come to him seeking help. Lance couldn't even remember a time when they even exchanged more than two words…it saddened him that he never got to know the brilliant scientist. Like Bones, Zach was a genius in his area but had a difficult time connecting with other people. He suspected that Dr. Addy had a social disorder, probably Asperger's, and he would have been glad to help the Dr. in any way he could. From what little Booth had talked to him about Zach, the scientist looked up to the agent and only wanted some camaraderie and advice about the opposite sex. Lance might not be as successful with females as Booth but he would have been a lot more accommodating than the agent.

Melancholy overtook Lance as it was too little too late. He would never get to know Zach and couldn't help but feel the loss of what could have been.

He wouldn't grieve as deeply as the others but he felt the loss of Zach all the same.

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. They are very much appreciated and feed the muse. Writing this has been a great experience and I hope everyone has enjoyed the story thus far.**

**I think there will only be three or four more chapters then it's done. I do plan on making this a series akin to both tv shows and I hope everyone keeps reading. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

**All original content is fictitious and any resemblances to people (living or undead), places, or events are purely coincidental. **

Zach was bored out of his mind. He already read through Alana's extensive library and most of her tastes in television series didn't interest him. He couldn't get into the drama of One Tree Hill and he already memorized Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly. He missed being at the Jeffersonian where his talents and brilliant mind were utilized everyday. At Alana's, he was very limited in what he could do due to being incorporeal. He didn't need sleep so he couldn't even pass time being lazy in slumber. Alana apologized for the delay but he understood why his funeral arrangements were taking so long. If he recalled FBI protocol, they were probably holding onto the bones as long as they could for evidence and there was almost certainly an indelible pile of paperwork to go through. As the regular FBI forensics team was no where near as efficient as the Jeffersonian's, Zach suspected the FBI's subpar forensics team were bumbling around their inferior lab; mucking up the evidence, especially since Marcus Geier was head of the field forensic team.

Zach realized a couple days ago who would probably be on his case, as he was certain the Jeffersonian team would be discharged due to proximity to the deceased. He tried to convince Alana to help him bring his killer to justice but she adamantly refused. He was frustrated by her lack of compliance but he couldn't argue with her logic; there was simply no way to expose Geier without incriminating Alana or revealing Reapers. There was also the issue of proving Geier did anything without Zach's testimony which would be impossible for the soul to give. Zach was also certain that as incompetent as Marcus was at collecting evidence, the murder wasn't stupid. It would be the one time where Geier would need to compromise the evidence as it would suit the killer's needs. As logical as Zach was, he could see the futility of his endeavor no matter how maddening it was. Still, a part of him wanted justice no matter what it took. Alana placated Zach by telling him that justice would be served; in this life or the next. This did little to comfort Zach since Alana couldn't definitively say there was a heaven or a hell; only that there was an afterlife. Zach could only hope there was some kind of divine justice system as he couldn't figure out how Geier would be punished by the legal or afterlife system.

He tried to have an existential crisis where he thought about his place in the world and what it meant to be him. Zach couldn't because he was the same as he was before; confused about life and, or afterlife in his current state, no solid evidence to direct him in any direction. All he could do was work with the facts and put pieces of the puzzle that was given to him together. He was anxious about his fate but he was still who he was.

"Okay Zach, we've made progress with your funeral," Alana told him after several days.

Zach was grateful that some movement with his situation had been made. There was only so many times he could take watching, he finally broke down and watched the teen series, Lucas and Peyton sort of get together and then part ways before his no longer physical brain turned to mush. It was also eerily similar the situation he had with Naomi. He would be in a relationship with her for a week or two and then something beyond his understanding would break them up. Naomi would be vague or outright refuse to tell him what was wrong and he was left in the proverbial dark; she usually broke up with him during work hours when there was plenty of light so he was never literally in the dark. He never understood the metaphor because thoughts were always in the dark as the brain had no natural inner light source. He remembered Jack trying to explain it to him but Zach could not get past the literal restrictions the human body placed in the way.

"I know you're probably going stir crazy being cooped up at my place for the past couple of days. I do want to thank you for not going haywire with cabin fever."

Zach had never head of such a disease and he didn't understand how he could catch it if he was already dead. He didn't contemplate the thought long as Alana kept talking.

"The FBI has finally released your remains to your family and will be escorted by the Jeffersonian team."

"How do you know this?" Zach inquired. As far as he was aware the entire Gormogon case was not made public and he didn't read such information in the Washington Post Alana bought everyday.

"Let's just say Reapers are everywhere," Alana replied vaguely.

Zach considered the statement and wondered exactly how close he was literally to death his entire life. It was disturbing how much about the world he truly didn't know. How much he missed out on because he was so certain that specific things did not exist because of a lack of evidence; and it turns out that the evidence was just very well hidden. If he really thought about it then he supposed it was his own arrogance that science couldn't be wrong and that his senses were the end all be all of evidence that held the truth from him. He had heard all types of anecdotes of people claiming there was an afterlife and Death as a physical manifestation. He had always brushed them off as being mentally unstable and they were right all along. It was a surreal experience to know how utterly and completely wrong he was about something he was so certain of.

Dying was a humbling experience for Zach.

"There won't be a viewing for obvious reasons but the service and burial will be at St. Dymphna Catholic Church."

Alana noticed that Zach's demeanor had gone dark when she mentioned the church where he was to be buried.

"What's the matter?"

"I never understood why my parent's hold that particular church in such high regard, especially considering that they're Lutheran," Zach replied with a hint of disdain.

"Not a big fan of Catholics?" Alana inquired. She wasn't trying to start another philosophical debate and as a Catholic she was curious to what the cute doctor thought of them. Not that it would really matter in the long run since Reaper on Reaper fraternization was heavily frowned upon and she was the utmost professional…at least that is what she told herself.

"I have no feelings or opinions towards one religion over the other…especially now that any one of them could be true. It's just the church is also a private school I had to attend when I was thirteen. It was the closest educational establishment that could handle my intelligence until I outgrew it as well. I had a very hard time fitting into a school that had such an advance science and math program but at the same time would force upon me classes that I found completely illogical."

Alana immediately understood what Zach was trying to say and she didn't need to be a genius to figure out which classes in a religious school he was talking about. He didn't fit in at public school because the curriculum was too slow and the only private school with a more rigorous coarse load also taught classes that went beyond science and emphatic logic.

"The students there were less than impressed with my superior intellect or my social awkwardness and they made their…dislike of me known," Zach further explained while subconsciously rubbing his arm. He had no body and the bullying took place years ago but he could still feel ghosts of the verbal and physical pain the other school children put him through.

As if he was physically there, he vividly remembered the pain of being pushed violently into a locker; the sting of his body hitting the metal cabinet as fresh in his mind as it had been long ago. Zach didn't have anything left but his memories and his high school experiences would always be vibrant to him. He wondered if his tormentors would have thought twice before harassing him if they knew how deep the scars ran.

Alana couldn't empathize with the forensic scientist because she had a standard childhood. She wasn't wildly popular but she had her friends and she didn't have the burden of being gifted to single her out from the rest of the crowd. She did know a few kids that the others teased for being too smart, or too fat, or too skinny, or too anything. Alana was so average that most didn't pay any attention to her or her friends but a part of her wished that she had stood up for those who were being picked on instead of taking a neutral stance. She didn't dwell on the past as she knew what those kinds of thoughts led to and brought herself back to the present.

"Kids are little bastards."

Zach smiled at the apt description of his school peers Alana gave but his contempt for the school deepened.

"While that is an appropriate description of school children, these were adolescents that had long reached physical maturity and some were even legally adults."

Alana frowned at what she thought was an inconsistency.

"I thought you said you were thirteen."

"I was."

"And there were adult students?"

"Yes…it was a high school," Zach explained.

"Oh," was all Alana could say. She quickly realized her mistake. So not only did Zach have to deal with classes that didn't make any sense to him he also had to contend with other students that were significantly older than him. It was no wonder to Alana that he had such a hard time. Anger rose up in Alana, thinking of what Zach had to go through at the hands of those who should have known better. It was one thing for children in elementary school to be little brats; they were still learning their place and social skills but a high school aged student picking on someone that was clearly at a disadvantage…the anger dissipated and was replaced with sour defeat because she remembered that ass-hattery spanned all ages. She was just left with the bitter truth that life wasn't fair and Zach would learn that the afterlife wasn't either.

"I'm sorry that your funeral is taking place where you were tormented but…"

Alana struggled to put into words that Zach had to suck it up and go through the process but he seemed to have understood. He was used to being forced to go to places he didn't want for the sake of family functions. Alana had that apologetic but not really and "you will do it because it's for family and we all love each other whether you like it or not" face that was often found on his mother when forcing him to go to a sporting event or a ballet recital for his other brothers and sisters. He, at least, was not alone with this particular fate because his siblings also had to attend every science and math related event he participated in. He also got the added satisfaction that his events usually accompanied trophies and ribbons that indicated actual merit; not just compensatory "thank you for being on the team and even though you didn't win anything, here's a trophy" awards. His siblings were mediocre at best at whatever they did so at least he got the distinct impression that his mother and father were proud of his accomplishments if not a bit worried about his social ineptitude.

"I still don't see the point of this entire endeavor. It seems like a complete waste of time, especially yours if you have other…souls," the word still did not feel natural to him. "to Reap. Why go through all the trouble for something that doesn't matter?"

Alana sighed and she was getting frustrated with Zach fighting her every inch of the way with this.

"Don't worry about the souls I have to or do not have to Reap. We take care of those things. You say goodbye to your life and then move on. It's how it works for everyone. Even super geniuses who don't fully understand."

Zach rolled his eyes at her lack of logical explanation and the suggestion that he should just "go with it" for the sake of going along.

"I don't understand how people think 'because you're supposed to, just do it' is a valid argument in any conversation. I also don't understand how people just don't question orders they're given. Perhaps if people stopped and thought about what they're "just supposed to do" then the Nazi's wouldn't have been able to take over Germany and most of Western Europe."

Alana just stared flabbergasted at Zach. She was pretty certain he just called her a Nazi.

"Zach…" she tried to think of another way to explain the situation one last time. She couldn't think of the logical reasons he had to go, at least not without alerting him to his fate, so she went with the emotional ones even though that might be fruitless as well.

"Don't you want to see your family one last time? You're never going to be able to see them again after this."

That silenced Zach and it was the crux of the matter. He knew very well he would never see his family again and that was why he didn't want to go to Michigan.

Emotions he wasn't used to having invaded his mind and coursed throughout his non-corporeal body. It was an uncomfortable tightening somewhere around his midsection and a restricted feeling around his lungs; he was sure if he had a body he would be sick. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn't have a body to get sick but it was another thing about the afterlife he didn't understand.

Sick. That was the only way he could describe what was happening to him; to be afflicted with ill health; an external influence that purely dealt with the mind that made him nauseous, among other ailments. Logically he knew that someone else's death or fate did not have a direct physical effect on a person. It was all illogical and self-created connections people thought they had. Logic had no place in his world anymore but he didn't know any way else to think. The overwhelming cascade of emotions was completely new to him. Before, he had always felt just the tinkling of emotions; they never bothered him for long and they never had a physical effect on him most of the time. It was why Booth had often considered Zach a robot. The scientist never reacted the way a normal person would in similar circumstances. Zach's emotional tells were a lot more subtle and internalized but he did have them. He could recall one instance on a case where a child had been raped and murdered. Despite all of his logic, the loss of a child unknown to him had greatly affected him. His eidetic memory, a curse with those kinds of recollections, accosted him with every little detail; Angela's brilliant computer program vividly and accurately portraying the youths last moments. He trembled putting the child's bones into the coffin, the only remains the family had. Rationally he knew that death was finite and murder was wrong and whether it was of a child or an adult, it was a grave injustice. Children affected him strongly to him though, the crime seemed more heinous even if he couldn't explain why and he knew others felt the same. There was something intrinsically wrong with killing a child, something science couldn't elucidate.

So seeing his family was akin to a child dying. It was uncomfortable, wrong, sad, and something he would rather not deal with ever. It wasn't like the vacations he took to Michigan whenever he had the time off. He went out of a sense of family obligation as well as not having any other plans most of the time. His social ineptitude barred him from having more than a handful of friends and those friends usually had their own plans for the holidays or vacation. So he had the choice of coming home to a family that loved him but didn't understand him or staying in his apartment by himself. He tried it one year but he grew bored and lonely; so while his family visits were not the things Normal Rockwell would paint about, it was better than sitting alone with his thoughts.

But now he would rather be anywhere but near his family. Zach didn't want to be around them as they grieved. They would be grieving for his passing but he was still there even if they didn't see him. And if he saw them then it would be truly over. Alana even told him it would be truly over once he said his goodbyes and his family said goodbye to him. There was a completely unknown world waiting for him and he was in no way ready for it. He remembered everything from Sunday school even if he didn't believe in any of it before. He was also well aware of other religious mythos and Alana was not forthcoming with any details to which religion might be true. So whatever his next "step" was he wasn't prepared and it did create a great amount of anxiety in him to be so unready for something. He couldn't study, he couldn't do any research. This was something beyond his comprehension and that created a dark fear in him. There was a distinct possibility that he would be penalized for his decisions based on his presumption that religious rules did not apply, particularly not believing in any type of higher power at all and a lot of per-marital sex.

He also had doubts about his own family's reaction to his death. He was never for the most part close to any of his siblings and he was sure his father never fully felt comfortable around him. They all loved him, he knew that but he wasn't certain about how much they would care that he was gone. He knew that there was this distance between him and his family that they were never able to overcome. They were too slow for him and he was too socially awkward to fit in with them. All of his siblings were married with kids, he was the proverbial black sheep (that metaphor he understood because he could visually see how a black sheep stands out among the others and how it feels to be different from the herd) that they always worried about. His mother made mention of his lack of partner but he always assumed he had time to find the right woman to settle down with. Naomi from Paleontology was the forerunner when he was alive. While he didn't understand her unhappiness with his bedroom skills and she always refused to tell him what part of their relationship was unsatisfying, she was a desirable mate. She was attractive, healthy, and she was smart; not as smart as him, very few were, but she did work at the Jeffersonian so it meant that she was in the top percentile in her chosen field. He did not know if she would have been the one to marry but she was the closest to his ideal that would have them. His first choice would have been Dr. Brennan.

Dr. Brennan. That was also another reason he didn't want to go to his funeral. She had a cool absolute logical mind that surpassed even his own. He admired her because of her brilliance and ability to block out extraneous data, such as emotions, that hindered everyone else. She was the best in forensics and a great writer; she had several best sellers to prove it. Temperance was also very beautiful and perfectly symmetrical; something they had in common and he asserted it was more than enough to suggest compatibility. Temperance never indicated that she was interested in him sexually or romantically and Jack affirmed this over and over again so his interest remained unrequited. He never felt anything beyond attraction and profound respect for his superior but he had always wanted her approval. Zach always gave his best in cases and Temperance always demanded nothing less. There were times he wished that her cool demeanor would give way to a smile and approval. All he craved was someone to be proud of him, especially Dr. Brennan. His parents and others were amazed at his abilities but his talents always seemed to take backseat to his social awkwardness. His brilliance was always paired with his inability to understand slang or colloquialisms. He didn't understand when people said one thing but meant something else. Dr. Brennan had the same problems and that was one of the reasons that he felt a connection with her. Her approval meant something to him because it took a lot more to impress her than it would a normal person. Her commendations would only come if he was truly exceptional and he wanted nothing more than for her to be proud of him. Dr. Brennan understood his problems because she had them too. He wondered if she would think his funeral would be superfluous and unnecessary as death was the end and nothing she could do to bring him back or to make things better. A part of him didn't want her to be so logical and cool. He wanted her, out of all those he thought would attend his funeral, to not brush his passing off and be upset. It was an illogical desire he knew; to want someone to find his death important while at the same time knowing it was meaningless.

Alana was still talking but he couldn't listen to a word she said. He was too lost in his own conflicted feelings of his funeral and the great unknown afterlife.

Zach's distraction was not lost on Alana and she didn't blame the scientist. This was an unexpected complication she had never encountered in all her years of Reaping. She had assisted with the acclimation of a new Reaper once and all she had to do was help research where the body was being embalmed and where the service was being held. The new Reap was an accountant that never left Southern Maryland his entire life; he died in a freak car accident on route 4 on his way to St. Charles Mall. His death was simple and his family was close. So his funeral and process was straightforward. Zach's funeral, on the other hand, was in another state and his body was evidence for an FBI investigation. Alana literally couldn't think of a more difficult process to go through but she was glad things were finally in motion. It wasn't easy to get Zach to stay at her place while she made plans and had to Reap on top of that. Howard gave her a few days off but it wasn't enough and Death couldn't let her take leave indefinitely. The DC metro area had plenty of people die on a daily basis; if it wasn't an accident on the Red line then it was a shooting in P.G. County. Then there were the banal everyday freak accidents and suicides. A Reaper's work was never done. She was just grateful he didn't seem to notice that her other Reaps didn't require for them to stay behind and go through the process she was forcing upon him.

Alana was also thankful Denise had left her an extensive library that entertained Zach for a while. After Dr. Addy went through all the books, he then started on the TV dramas. Alana laughed at how puzzled Zach got at the dramatic shenanigans of One Tree Hill but it was clear the forensic investigator was quickly getting frazzled by the dramady; although he did seem to be fairly interested in the yo-yo relationship of Peyton and Lucas. She swore she heard him mumbling about "women" and their inability to clearly state what was wrong. It was satisfying to see that even super geniuses were clueless at times.

"Zach, all you need to know is that our plane leaves BWI at 6:00 AM for Detroit Metro Airport. The service is at twelve and the burial is at one. The wake is at your parent's afterwards," Alana surmised their plans.

"So I guess I accompany you? Where am I supposed to sit?"

"We booked two seats together and we hope that when it's indicated that you seat is unclaimed that no one buys it last minute. In case someone does book it, then we have to hope it's not a totally booked flight and you find whatever seat happens to be available. In case there's a full flight then you're SOL and you're going to have to stand. So we're just hoping for the best."

Zach took in the information unemotionally and accepted his fate. His other choice was to stay here and that didn't look any better. He couldn't fathom staying where he was for an eternity, not being able to do anything other than lift some books and turn pages. At least he would be with someone he could converse with. He didn't like what was happening to him but looking at Alana's kind eyes and gentle smile; he was glad that he wasn't alone.

**A/N: Sorry this has been a long time coming but RL is severely kicking my ass with employment and writer's block. I hope you guys enjoy the double whammy chapters!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates. **

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction. **

**All original content is fictitious and any resemblances to people (living or undead), places, or events are purely coincidental. **

The atmosphere at the Jeffersonian was tense. Office gossip spread like fed tribbles once the news broke of Dr. Addy's death. The presence of the FBI was common as everyone knew the agency used the Jeffersonian's resources to go over particularly difficult cases that needed the professional opinion of Dr. Brennan; the Jeffersonian also boasted the best forensic equipment in the country. It wasn't until they heard the hysterics of the one sociable staff member the Medico-Legal lab employed that they knew something was wrong. Everything people could garner was only talked about in hushed tones and immediately silenced whenever a worker from the Medico-Legal Lab passed them by. The talk of the institute revolved around the mystery of the deceased as most people there did not know Zach other than he was the brilliant scientist that kept to himself and the forensic department. Naomi Watson, from the Paleontology department, was the only non-forensic scientist that knew Zach on a personal level. She gained a quasi-celebrity status when people flooded to her, asking what she knew. The woman wasn't forthcoming with information as she choked up on tears whenever her former paramour was mentioned and she refused to sully his memory by answering the gossip mongers. They didn't need to know she felt terrible for the way she treated him and wished that she could have been more understanding. Zach was coming into his own as a partner and she berated herself for not being able to fully express what she wanted from him. She knew that he had social and communication issues but she was still short with him when all he was trying to do was understand. He was the most honest, painfully so sometimes, man she had ever gone out with and she kept coming back to him because deep down she knew he was a good man. She refused to feed the gossip mill just so they could find entertainment in a tragedy.

The vultures eventually gave up on finding anything salacious on the doctor but they did notice those who remained. They observed the unaffected façade of Dr. Temperance Brennan and they wondered if she really was a robot. The forensic scientist and famous author gave no indication that she had any feelings or even opinion on the murder of one of her own. The Medico-Legal lab was famous for its contribution to the FBI, among other things, so everyone had at least heard of Dr. Brennan. Most had brushed off her rumored emotionless demeanor as a quirk of being brilliant. When they saw that her face was a blank canvass, as it was any other day, then they started to give credit to the gossip. They couldn't understand how Dr. Brennan could be so cavalier and go on as if nothing had happened. Was she so emotionless that she didn't care that someone she had worked with for years was killed? There was also talk that the anthropologist was even going to skip the funeral completely.

Only the Medico-Legal lab could sense the subtle changes in their leader. They saw that her demeanor wasn't unemotional but cold; it was as if all the warmth was sucked out of her and all that was left was the hard creature before them. They noticed that her sentences were succinct and impatient, more so than usual; Temperance no longer held any tolerance for those who could not keep up with her. She all but barked orders and was more condescending than ever. The rest of the Jeffersonian staff started to steer clear of Dr. Brennan but it didn't stop the interest in the case.

Jack Hodgins was also of curiosity. The entomologist was a dead end of information as well. The hapless interns that were dumb enough to approach him on the subject of his former best friend were met with rage and rants. The security guards had to pull Hodgins away before he did any damage. The other employees noticed that Jack was on edge and walked with a perpetual tense gait. Jack seemed to be always looking over his shoulder and had a suspicious undertone to his speech whenever he came into contact with anyone. The botanist did not trust anyone at that point and it was rumored he was selling his house for a more secure residence. Everyone knew that Jack had been kidnapped by the Gravedigger the year before but none were sure exactly why. Most had assumed it was to get at Dr. Brennan who they thought was the wealthiest due to her position within the Jeffersonian and her book sales. Most of the Jeffersonian did not know that Jack owned the Cantilever Group and was one of the wealthiest men in the country and he planned on keeping it that way.

The employees at the Jeffersonian didn't blame Jack for being so paranoid. His best friend was kidnapped from their home, according to rumor, and he had been a victim of Gormogon; it did not bode well for a person's sense of safety. The other members of the Medico-Legal Lab seemed to be behaving more in line of what people thought they should be reacting. Angela Montenegro, the resident facial reconstructionist they learned from whispers and internet searches. The pretty artist was not as well known since she did not hold any advanced degrees and didn't publish in scholastic journals. Angeala walked around the Jeffersonian like the walking dead. She looked pale, had red eyes from crying long periods of time, and dark bags under her eyes; looking as if she hadn't slept since she found out about Zach's death. It was rumored that it was she who first figured out Zach was dead by the skull delivered to the office; most didn't know whether or not to believe this as they couldn't fathom the artist being that good at her job. Still, if the rumors were true then they could understand how traumatic it must have been.

The head of the department, Camille Saroyan, didn't look as if she was grieving but she did snap at those she caught gossiping about her loss. It was said that the forensic pathologist had a special connection with the deceased. Some interns swore that they heard Camille refer to Zach as "Zacharoni" but some where hard pressed to believe the professional woman would use such an endearment. Still, everyone knew that the death of her employee was hard on her as she constantly tried to keep her workplace going but failed to keep the her own grief out of her voice. She also seemed to have a tension about her, always looking over her shoulder; complaining that the office was kept too cold.

There was also this underlying fear that the serial killer would strike any one of them next. There was a subconscious anger at the Medico-Legal lab because they irrationally thought the team brought the danger. They were all scientists, not crime fighters. The closest most of them came to death was the Egyptology department. They feared the murderer would set his sights on them. There was no rational explanation with how Gormogon chose his victims and there had been an increase in internet searches on Tarot cards. Everyone reading and interpreting the cards in their own way and paranoia was getting to them; each finding some connection or semblance with the cards, no matter how small or far fetched.

Zach's death had a ripple effect and it put everyone on edge, even those who didn't work there could feel it.

Daisy Wick sat in a hard backed and rigid chair, waiting for a meeting with the head of the intern program. After a lot of competition and many late nights, she was finally in the final rounds for an internship at the prestigious Jeffersonian Institute. She always had a dream of working with the world renowned Dr. Temperance Brennan along with fanciful fantasies of them becoming best friends and possibly becoming a forensic crime fighting duo. Daisy knew it was silly to think of such things, as she was sure Dr. Brennan was nothing but completely professional, but she was so excited she could hardly sit still.

But she did sit still because the atmosphere was intense. There seemed to be a silence that pervaded the air and it made her afraid to make a noise. The normally loquacious young woman was abnormally quiet; she didn't try to talk the ear off of anyone who would listen and kept to herself. She stayed in her seat and silently observed her surroundings; taking in everything, hoping to get any kind of edge over the competition. Daisy surveyed the hallway she where she sat, it seemed like a normal hallway. Most of the people worked inside their labs and only a few passed by. Normally people would at least make eye contact with her and give a polite "hello." Here they eyed her with suspicion and abruptly stopped whatever conversation they were having; as if they were afraid and paranoid about anyone hearing what they were saying.

This confused Daisy but she kept her bright smile regardless as she was certain she could win them over.

"_Maybe they don't like it when new people come in; job competition and all. Not to worry! I will win them over eventually!_" she thought to herself. She wasn't going to let a few, or all, veteran employees get her down. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it.

Down the hall she heard another set of voices quickly coming her way. It sounded like an argument but the tone didn't quite match. One was deep and thoroughly male, talking with a strained voice; as if he was saying the same thing over and over again but it wasn't getting through. The second voice was monotonous and condescending but decidedly female.

When the two turned the corner and Daisy could get a good look at them she was frozen in shock.

In front of Daisy was **the **Dr. Temperance Brennan; her idol, her reason for becoming a forensic anthropologist. It was a surreal experience and she felt she was in the presence of the divine. Daisy did her best to contain herself and not burst into flames from her excitement but she couldn't help the buzzed feeling she was experiencing. Daisy was suddenly hyper aware of her surroundings. She took note that she was down the hall from the Medico-Legal Lab, the Mecca of forensic anthropology. She never suspected she would actually see her idol that day as she was concentrating on securing the internship so she could meet her hero everyday for several weeks; months if she was impressive enough (which she would be because failure was not an option). Daisy's perception of the world changed because being in the presence of greatness made everything else seem trite. What she picked out to wear seemed like a sharp and professional suit that morning now appeared to be cheap and she hated everything about it. She wished she had splurged on a designer as she looked on the crisp lines of Dr. Brennan's two-piece Marc Jacob's suit. Daisy wanted to make a good impression but she wasn't even an intern yet; she didn't feel worthy to approach the anthropologist. Daisy's common sense kicked in and thought it would be rude to interrupt what sounded like an important, albeit one sided, conversation.

"You are going to Michigan," the unknown male said to Dr. Brennan.

"Just because you use an authoritative tone with me doesn't mean it's a true statement. I have told you time and again; I see no reason to travel to Michigan. Funeral rites are an archaic and sentimental ritual that is completely illogical and pointless. Zach is dead and there he is not coming back. I don't understand why standing around his remains is such an important issue to everyone. Also, you and the others will be escorting his bones to his parents so my presence is redundant."

Booth was really tired of this argument and he knew he wasn't getting anywhere fast. Bones had completely shut down emotionally and she was running on auto pilot. The only type of emotion she showed lately was her disdain for "inferior minds" and cutting remarks. He knew that Zach's death was affecting her greatly and if Sweet's was right she was compartmentalizing; to her, Zach was just another person who left her and she's putting him in a mental box to be stored away and never thought of again.

Booth could empathize with her thought process, who wouldn't want to be able to completely separate feelings from reality? Dealing with Zach's death was hard but it was something she needed to work through; if not for herself then for the others who needed love and support.

As soon as the thought came to Booth he knew what he had to say to get her to come to Michigan.

"Bones…a funeral is a way to say goodbye to those you love."

The word "goodbye" hit a nerve with Temperance as it meant that someone was leaving and, in her experience, never coming back. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, letting Booth catch up to her. She pushed down the bile that welled in her throat and the images of her parents leaving her back into the dark recesses of her mind. She had a tense sensation around her eyes and she used all the control she learned over the years to not let her eyes well up. It took her a few seconds longer than usual but she pushed the feelings down and regained her composure.

In her usual unemotional way she explained to him why "saying goodbye" was meaningless.

"Zach is dead. He can't hear, he can't speak, and he is unable to care whether or not I was there. Saying 'goodbye' to a dead body accomplishes nothing. I assume you are referring to the rigmarole of the human soul; there is not proof that such an entity exists. Therefore performing rituals specifically to say farewells is irrational and absurd. There is nothing to neither hear them nor acknowledge them. I reassert that partaking in funeral rites is a waste of time and money. Since you are so fond of hypotheticals then listen to this: If Zach was still alive and had made plans for his death, he wouldn't want to have had a memorial service. He was a very rational being, so he would see the completely illogical notion of it."

Booth was surprised that Bones would even bring up Zach's belief about funerals. Usually she stayed completely away from conjecture, so he knew she was really struggling to throw everything there was at him to not attend Zach's funeral.

Booth would not give up that easily thought.

"I get it Bones. You don't believe in souls or the afterlife. I'm not trying to convince that they exist. You don't believe Zach can hear you and is no longer with us in any form but there are those that do; his mother, father, family, and Angela to name a few. If you don't want to say your goodbyes because you believe Zach is gone, then be there for those he left behind. Angela has been a mess since she found out and she needs her best friend."

Booth's argument appealed to Bone's logical nature and satisfied her subconscious desire to be around those she cared about; even though Zach was dead she wanted to be close to him.

"So you are saying I should go because my presence would be a comfort to those that are slower to accept that he is dead and have overwhelming emotional issues with the fact?"

Booth let out a soft sardonic laugh as Bones described grief in its most base form but he knew he convinced her to go to Michigan. He would take the small victories in whatever form and reasoning Bones was willing to give.

"Yes Bones, you would a great comfort to those who are mourning. The Addy's would probably love it if you told them how much you loved having Zach as an assistant and that you are sorry for their loss."

"I do miss Zach, he was a great asset to the team; very competent and meticulous. I do regret that they lost their son…" Bones tripped on her own logical reasoning. She suddenly remembered the pain she felt when her parents went away and wondered if it was the same for Mr. and Mrs. Addy.

"I'm certain that the Addy's will miss him a great deal."

Booth looked at Temperance with sad eyes because he knew under all the cold robotic logical veneer Bones was very vulnerable and hurt. She's lost a lot of people in her life and loss never got any easier. Zach was probably one of the few people on the planet that was close to as brilliant as her at what they did. They also shared a common inability to fully understand those around them; they had a certain type of solidarity between them that Booth wasn't sure she'd ever find again. His protective nature wanted to fight away all her demons and let her know that he wasn't going anywhere. That he wouldn't be one of the many people in her life; her parents, brother, and various foster parents, that would leave and never come back. He always wanted to be in her life and losing Zach just opened it up to him exactly how dangerous his job was and how precious life was.

He couldn't fight off death and he couldn't bring Zach back. What he could do was gently wrap one arm around his friend and let her lean her head against him. He ignored that she smelled like lavender and she fit perfectly in his arms. He just let her grieve the only way she knew how and he would be there for her.

Daisy watched as the pair walked away with a heavy heart. It was obvious to her that they were grieving and she read on the news that someone from the Smithsonian had died; she had no idea that it was someone that was close to Dr. Brennan. She had heard of Dr. Addy before as she made sure to do thorough research on everyone who was part of the Medico-Legal lab. She was desperate to get in to the anthropology program, specifically under Dr. Brennan so Daisy had searched and read all doctoral theses and any publication from the team including the topics of Dr. Hodgins even though bugs made her a bit queasy. She distinctly remembered the publications from Dr. Addy as his were a challenge to understand despite her higher than average I.Q. She was a bit intimidated by the prospect of working with such great minds, even though hers was impressive by any standard; but now that she knew he was gone, she inexplicably felt like she missed out on a great opportunity.


	19. Chapter 19

**Dead Like Me is owned by Bryan Fuller, Showtime, and their affiliates.**

**Bones is owned by Hart Hanson, Fox and their affiliates.**

**No money what so ever is or will be made from this fanfiction.**

**Any recognizable quotes are taken from Bones ep "Pain in the Heart", all other dialogue is mine.**

**Unbeta'd**

The Baltimore-Washington International Airport was a busy port on a normal day but the morning the Reaper and her charge needed to get to Michigan, it seemed to be particularly hectic. The unending lines to get into the gates seemed to be at a standstill with no progress being made. Alana had traveled enough in the past decade to know she had to get there at least two hours before the scheduled flight but at the rate they were going, it seemed that even that wouldn't be enough.

Alana felt worse for Zach because all he could do was wonder close to her and he was still in the phantom clothes that he died in; which did not include a shirt. So Zach just looked absolutely hapless and bored standing around in just his jeans.

Zach had already categorized all the features of the people in line. He knew their height, estimated weight, and morbidly wondered if anyone in line would die anytime soon. There was a Reaper going on board, after all. Plus there was the added fact that anyone could be a Reaper. The distrustful TSA agent, the ever cheerful flight attendant, the hostile cashier who hated his job at the Borders Express; any one of them could have been a Reaper and no one would be the wiser.

Zach idly wondered if Reapers could recognize each other.

Alana felt bad for Zach and decided that he didn't need to stick so closely by and be bored. She wasn't sure how she'd tell Zach that he could wander around a bit to stave off some boredom but then a thought popped into her mind.

The Reaper reached into her bag, searching through all the miscellaneous crap she kept and wasn't sure why. She found what she was looking for; a simple unassuming government issued Blackberry.

Her fingers quickly danced over the keypad as if she was making a call but the Blackberry's screen remained black. Alana always turned off her phone when she got to the airport so she wouldn't ever get yelled at by the flight attendants. Their eerily cheerful smiles hid a dark inner sadistic streak that Alana was all too familiar with. Once the flight attendant was pissed then the plane ride would be nothing but hit elbows from the drink cart and sans any pillows or blankets; no matter how many times they are asked for.

"Hey, Zach! How's it going?" Alana said louder than necessary into her nonworking Blackberry.

It was loud enough to get Zach's attention and he was a bit confused as to what she was trying to do.

"Yeah I'm in line for the gates so don't feel like you need to wait around for me and be bored, Zach," Alana continued on, looking straight at Zach.

The deceased didn't seem to be getting the hint and he also failed to understand when Alana widened her eyes or raised her eyebrows.

Alana wondered how someone so smart could be so clueless. She was trying to be nice and give him a reprieve from standing around when it was unnecessary. She trusted Zach to follow her to Michigan and not run away. He knew what he needed to do and he had proved that he was willing to stick around. It had taken over a week for his funeral arrangements to get settled. The former doctor could have run away a multitude of times, especially when she had to go and Reap other souls. She couldn't bring him along because he would question why the other souls got to their lights while he had to attend his own funeral. Alana wished she could just tell Zach he was to become a Reaper but saying goodbye to his old life was necessary.

She somewhat envied him. His funeral and family were several states away and the temptation to spy on them, haunt them as Reapers say, was removed. He didn't have to struggle with the heartache of having his family so close but still completely cut off to him. It was one of the hardest things Alana struggled with when she first died: staying away from her mother, not being able to let the grieving woman know that she was alright, and still with her in some form. The Reaper was more than happy after ten years had past and she was finally transferred somewhere else.

"**Zach**, feel free to hang out at Hudson News or the Borders Express while I'm in line."

When Alana emphasized his name, it finally dawned on him that she was talking to him and not someone else who happened to be named "Zach." Standing in line was tedious and while the bookstore or the news kiosk probably wouldn't be much more scintillating, it was still better than waiting around.

He smiled warmly at Alana and he was very happy that she was able to make the trip as painless, metaphorically speaking since he was not able to feel physical pain, as possible for him.

As Zach turned to find the closest bookstore past the gate he stopped and thought for a moment. He looked at Alana and something inside of him didn't want to leave her. It wasn't that she was one of the most patient females he'd come across in his lifetime, besides Angela and his mother; it wasn't that she looked really cute in her "fly ware" which consisted of comfortable yet easily removable shoes and a pink tracksuit. It was because she had done her best to make sure he was kept entertained all the while dealing with his death and he was sure many others. He didn't know why he felt the urge to return the favor but since she ingeniously figured out a way to talk to him without looking like a crazy person, he thought he ought to get to know the Reaper that was doing so much for him.

"I think I'll stick around and keep you company."

Alana was taken aback by Zach's proclamation and wondered why he didn't want to wander about a bit.

"Are you sure?" she said, still talking into her turned off phone. "You don't have to stick around, I know it's boring."

"Yes I am sure. I don't speak unless I'm ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent positive about the statement. Unless it's a question but even then I'm very positive I don't know the answer, hence why I ask. I would rather converse with you and keep you company than peruse what I'm sure are mind numbing political commentaries or biographies of famous people I don't care about. I am sure I would have a much more enjoyable time with you than trying to stealthily read "The Eleventh Victim" by Nancy Grace."

"Ugh I hate Nancy Grace. She's so obnoxious."

"I concur; she is not a particularly effective talk show host. Repeatedly she will interrupt her guests with her own opinion; even after asking them a question."

"I know! She totally steamrolls over people and doesn't let them talk. I'm not even sure why she even has guests; she might as well just talk non-stop for an hour because that's obviously what she wants to do anyway."

The two talked jovially through the entire line and even waiting at the gate. Alana found out that Zach was rather sweet when he wasn't talking condescendingly down to her over some trivial point. He was articulate and well versed in many areas and she could tell that he had a real passion in life and she hoped that he could find that same fervor in the afterlife.

It felt all too soon when they boarded the plane and Alana had to put away her electronic device. Zach was despondent that he would have to be bored again on a three hour flight. They were lucky because no one bought the unclaimed seat and at least Zach was able to sit next Alana during the flight.

The Reaper saw that Zach was already bored and the plane hadn't even taken off yet. She had really enjoyed their conversation and thought of how she could still communicate with the spirit. Her cell phone was out of the question; not only because it was forbidden on flights but it was extremely obnoxious and rude to talk on a cell during a flight. No one cared what she had to say about current events or hear her struggle trying to explain a pop culture reference to Zach.

Ever the problem solver, an idea popped into her head. She reached into her carry-on and pulled out a yellow legal pad and pencil.

_Hey Zach! What's up?_

She wrote neatly and poked him to get his attention as he was staring off into space, looking like the most bored person on Earth. Zach slowly looked at Alana, wondering what she wanted. He was again thinking about the paradox of sitting while incorporeal. It seemed as if his butt knew the secret to staying intact while the rest of his body always disintegrated when it came into contact with anything solid. When he saw the notepad and what Alana had written, he quickly figured out what she was doing and smiled.

"Oh I see what you're doing. Since you can no longer pretend to talk on the cellular, you are now employing pen and paper to communicate with me and not look insane. Very clever."

Alana smiled at the compliment because any mention of her intellect from a certified genius was very flattering. They were able to converse via notepad and had several cut throat rounds of tic-tac-toe while the plane prepared to depart.

_**On the other side of the tarmac**_

Dr. Temperance Brennan eyed the FBI forensics team like a hawk. She did not trust the agency's men that were handling Zach's remains.

An odd sensation welled up in her chest and stressed built up behind her eyes. She didn't know what was going on but if she asked Dr. Sweets, something she would never bring herself to do, then he'd say she was having an emotional response. She quickly disregarded the notion as absurd. She worked with bones on a regular basis. They were nothing more than rigid organs that produced red and white blood cells and stored minerals when the host was alive. Now that Zach was dead, his bones where nothing more than mineralized osseous tissue with no purpose or function. She did not think of them as all that remains of an amazing young man that she had worked with for years. She did not have a sentimental attachment to them because they were part of someone she deeply cared about. She knew that death was an undeniable fact of life so she was not irrationally upset about the loss of a member of her de facto family. She did not make illogical connections between her family leaving her and Zach's death.

Temperance Brennan was the paradigm of logic and rational behavior so she would never become a sobbing mess although she sometimes felt that was the more appropriate action. Angela and Hodgins appeared to have been marathon crying and even Booth had shown signs of lacrimation. Brennan was confused as to Booth's emotional response to Zach's death as she was certain the FBI agent was not fond of him. When she questioned Seeley's behavior she was shocked that he replied angrily.

"Bones, just because I wasn't BFF's with Zach doesn't mean that I don't care that he's gone," she remembered him saying in an offended tone.

"I don't know what that means," Temperance replied, unsure of herself.

"It means 'Best Friend Forever' and…"

"It's an irrational colloquialism as 'forever' is an impossible description of how long a friendship is to last. Studies have shown that friendship…"

"That's not the point Bones! The point is that just because I wasn't friends with Zach, doesn't mean I didn't care about him. He was weird and half the time I didn't know what the hell he was talking about but he was a part of our messed up pseudo-family. He was the weird cousin with the disorder that you don't ever talk about. You tolerate his weird behavior because he's family even though you'd rather not be around him but if someone messed with him then I would have stepped in."

"You knew about his Aspergers?" Brennan asked surprised.

"Bones, when are you going to learn that I'm not as dumb as you think I am?"

"I don't think you're dumb but you are vastly less intelligent than I am," she insisted.

Booth had to take a couple breaths and remind himself that Bones wasn't intentionally insulting him but merely pointing out a fact that she felt she had no emotional meaning.

"Yes, I know that Zach had Aspergers. No one is that clueless about emotions and OCD without something being up. One of the guys from forensics commented about it and how he thought Zach might have had it. I did my own research and came to my own conclusions."

"Why didn't you ever mention it?"

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning. Zach never did so I assumed he didn't want people to know or that he didn't think anything of it."

Bones looked pensive for a moment.

"What?" Booth asked, wanting to know what his friend was thinking.

"In most cultures, those with disorders are either stigmatized or overly coddled. I would have thought that if you knew of Zach's difficulties you would have been more sensitive to his condition; being that you are usually one to give comfort to others."

Booth gave a soft laugh at just how utterly clueless Bones could be at times.

"Bones, with Zach it was never an option to me to give him any kind of comfort. He led a very high functioning life despite or in spite of his condition. He didn't need me or anyone to feel sorry for him and I sure as hell wasn't going to give him crap for something he couldn't help; especially if it's something that probably helped him achieve so much and got him a job doing what he loved doing. I treated him like I would have treated anyone because he earned it. I wouldn't insult his intelligence by pretending to be friendly or lie about how I felt in a given situation."

"So you ignored his condition and treated him as anyone else with his personality and idiosyncrasies because you respected him?"  
It was a small victory but Booth took them whenever they came about. He knew it was hard for Bones to understand the human condition and he was glad to get things cleared up.

"Yes, that's exactly it."

Brennan had her "I get it but not really and I accept it" pensive face on and Booth knew that he got through to her.

"Hmmm…Alright," was all she had to say about the matter.

The Jeffersonian got on their flight and took the long journey of grief.

Alana and Zach landed in Detroit with no hassle other than a little turbulence but nothing life threatening. They had passed the time playing game after game of tic-tac-toe, all won by Zach. After getting spanked repeatedly by Zach, she opted to get to know Zach instead. She found out the former anthropologist had two doctoral degrees, a Dr. Jack Hodgins was his best friend, and his favorite food was mac and cheese. Alana was surprised to find out that Zach's best friend was _the _Jack Hodgins of the Cantilever group.

"_Well that explains the expensive digs_," Alana thought to herself as she grabbed a bite to eat at the airport food court. She craved a Cinnabon that she would have had for breakfast but couldn't due to the long lines at BWI.

She dug into the gooey cinnamon piece and after that first sweet bite she was certain there had to be a heaven.

All Zach could do was stare at Alana as she made strange sounds and had what he would describe as a drugged out look on her face.

"You know that's nothing but refined sugar, lard, and probably almost a days worth of calories in one sitting?"

Alana took an extra big bite to spite the spirit and an idea came to her.

"It's one of the perks of being a Reaper. Eat all you want and not gain a pound."

She didn't think that Zach cared about his weight but she had to talk up being a Reaper somehow, might as well start with the obvious plus of food.

"How is that possible?"

"We have insanely fast metabolisms."

"Metabolism is a just a biological process of chemical reactions. It has no mind nor thought process to be insane."

Alana took another big bite of her confectionery to ease the frustration that sometimes came with talking with Zach.

"I mean, we have a superhuman metabolism that allows us to eat whatever we want. It does have its drawbacks though; it takes an incredible amount of alcohol to get us inebriated."

"_Great, now I'm talking like him. Normally I would have said trashed_."

Alana didn't know if she should be happy her vocabulary was improving or dismayed that Zach's inability to understand common metaphors or slang had beaten her down enough that she's subconsciously avoiding them.

"It's good for drinking games if money is on the line. I know I've thrown some challenges down and won quite a bit when I was in need of some quick cash. It's funny how much money some meat head frat boy will put down if challenged by a girl."

"Interesting. Your metabolism is efficient enough to out drink someone I assume is twice your size."

Alana laughed at Zach's wonderment. Most people would focus on the monetary gain aspect of being a Reaper and he focused on the biology of it all.

"_Oh god, I hope he doesn't do any crazy experiments on himself to try to understand the physics of Reapers_," the unwanted thought came to Alana.

She knew that working with Zach would be interesting. Still she needed to talk up having a body and living, even if it was on the fringes of society.

"But yeah, it's a perk of being a Reaper. We get to eat whatever we want, go to movies, read books...enjoy life basically."

"But you are no longer human, correct? You have a secret identity away from mainstream society."

"Yeah...like a super hero," Alana knew it sounded lame but she needed to gloss over the downsides of being a Reaper that Zach was annoyingly shrewd enough to observe.

"Hmmmm...there is something analogous with Reapers to the super hero paradigm. Although I can see anti-hero aspect of you all killing people..."

"Whoa whoa whoa. We do _not _kill people," Alana was used to the misconception but she wanted to set the record straight before he become corporeal. "What we do is pop souls and guide you through the afterlife. How and when you die is separate department."  
"Interesting. I didn't see you when I died but there were some sort of ape like smoke creatures. Very frightening."

"You saw a graveling?" Alana asked shocked. She had seen the creatures a couple of times in her peripheral vision but she had never seen one dead on. She was shocked that Zach saw them at all.

"If that's what they are called yes, there were two; both were riding on the shoulders of my two murders. It seemed like they were whispering in their ears and had what I would describe as a malevolent look to them."

"Yeah, from my understanding they are what set Death in motion. They'll unplug your clock to make you rush in the morning and get into a crash. They'll loosen a screw to make something fall on you, stuff like that. Nasty little bastards."

"I concur but I find it interesting that these creatures are what set things in motion and not guided by some divine hand."

"Well we don't know that for sure; we don't know who gives the gravelings orders."

Zach sighed at the ambiguity that seemed to haunt the afterlife and he was through talking about it.

"I'm done, we can head out," Alana told the soul.

The Reaper finished her snack and they headed to the rental counter to pick up their car.

An hour later they were at a motel near the suburb where Zach grew up.

There was nothing Zach could do other than question Alana about her dress of choice. He understood that black was the traditional American color of mourning but he didn't understand why she was putting on a blonde wig and placing colored contacts in her eyes.

Such simple changes made a vast difference in Alana's appearance. The once demure brunette now stood three inches taller with short blonde hair and moss green eyes.

"Why are you in disguise? No one knows who you are regardless."

"I'm assuming your co-workers will be there. Normally people don't remember Reapers but since you work with geniuses who probably have a better memory and are more observant than most, I want to take precautions since I was there when you were Reaped. Also, your boss has proven to be able to acknowledge Reaper presence than the average person so any heads up that she's heading my way would be appreciated."

"That is a fair assumption to make. All together, we all probably had an IQ well over five hundred. Also, most of us had multiple doctorates so it's a good idea that you go in disguise; although I do have to comment that I prefer your normal countenance more than this one."

It took all of Alana's willpower not to blush but it wasn't often that males preferred her plain brown hair and everyday look over platinum blonde and hooker heels.

Alana wore a simple black pant suit that was appropriate for a funeral. Nothing too fancy or eye catching, her goal was the blend into the background and let Zach see all those who would mourn his passing. Normally she would have worn a dress but she knew there would be people there who had seen her before so she did everything she could to give the allusion that she wasn't who she was. Besides the wig and the contacts, she was wearing heals that she normally would never wear. The hooker heels weren't appropriate for a funeral but with the long pants, they hid most of the stilettos so unless someone was really looking, she gave off the illusion that she was taller than she was.

Alana gave herself one last look over before she headed to the church. She was satisfied that her disguised paired with the Reaper fog that no one would recognize her nor would they be prone to try to talk to her.

"Who exactly are you going to say you are?" Zach inquired. "I wasn't popular or had friends at any point in my grammar or high school career. I didn't even make my first real friend until I got into the doctorate program. My coworkers will be there you can't say you work at the Jeffersonian."

Zach made very valid points but this wasn't Alana's first rodeo.

"Zach, people are going to be grieving. They aren't going to pay attention to each and every person at the funeral. Even if someone does try to strike up a conversation, you have a huge family and according to the people I got on the inside, most if not all are coming. So I'll go with the ol' standby."

"Which would be what?"

"Claim I'm a second cousin of such and such. People are usually too embarrassed to admit they don't know who's in their family; so they'll either think I am who I say I am or play along because they don't want to look foolish. It works every time."

Zach didn't argue, despite the illogical assumptions she claimed. He would never blithely accept that someone was a relation with no proof but he could admit that when it came to human emotions and reactions, he wasn't in his element.

So they drove to the St. Dymphna's and parked among the many cars that lined the street. Zach wasn't surprised at the amount of people there, he did have a large immediate family and his extended family was accordingly large as well. What did surprise him was the reactions of those involved. He saw that many were crying or showing signs that they were upset. He knew everyone at the funeral as he had an eidetic memory.

He caught conversations as he passed by the congregation.

"I remember this one time he tried to make an actual rocket in my back yard..."

"He helped me balance my checkbook at age nine...really helped me get my finances on its feet."

"Helped me with my physics homework...saved my scholarship..."

Zach wasn't aware of how he had helped his various aunts, uncles, and cousins during his family visits. He thought that perhaps Alana was right; he got a sense of appreciation to know that his death meant something to those he left behind. He didn't think about most of these people on a daily basis but he remembered each experience with every person in attendance. He helped some and others he alienated with his vast intelligence, he was glad to know that even though he couldn't connect with them, he at least touched their lives in a meaningful way.

Zach made his way back to Alana and he was surprised that her ploy was working. She was talking to his Uncle Xander and his relative was at ease with the Reaper. As he got closer he overheard their conversation.

"It's such a shame, he was taken too soon."

"I agree. I remember when he came over that one summer, I was blown away by he was helping my older brother's homework. I thought it was the most amazing thing in the world."

"Ha! That was Zach alright. So how is cousin...Mirna doing?" Uncle Xander asked Alana hesitantly. The Reaper didn't miss a beat though.

"Oh she's fine. Complaining how hard it is to get out of bed these days but always finds the energy to chase after the cute pool boy."

"I bet, Mirna was always boy crazy..."

Zach was baffled at the exchange. Alana was absolutely right; his Uncle Xander completely fell for Alana's falsehood. There was no such person as Cousin Mirna but here Alana was, fabricating a person out of nothing and people went along with it. It was quite the sight to see.

The priest came out to the foyer and told everyone the service was starting. Alana held back and waited for Zach.

"Be prepared for a lot of tears and a long ass service. Damn Catholics and their need to make any service into mass."

"I thought you were Catholic?" Zach asked, puzzled that a supposed Catholic would make such a disparaging remark.

"I am so I know what I'm talking about. These things tend to take forever because they always add mass in with any rite. Marriage, baptism, whatever; they make it into a full mass along with whatever they're doing. How are you holding up so far?"

"I'm ambivalent."

"Really?"

"Yes, I feel like a lot of the emotional display is disingenuous due to my death. I know for a fact that half these people don't know me and the other half didn't care for me when I was alive."

Alana thought out her next words carefully. She'd seen a lot what Zach was talking about at a lot of funerals. How people only liked or missed a person once they were gone; or felt the need to praise the deceased even though in life the person was indifferent. She didn't know how to explain to Zach that just because someone said their feelings too late didn't make the sentiments any less true.

"Not to sound trite but 'you never know what you have until it's gone' rings truer than you think. With so many things that go on in our lives, did you stop and make sure everyone close to you knew how you felt about them?"

Zach pondered Alana's words and knew they were true. With his busy life he never told his family how much he loved them and how much they meant to them. He knew he was not good at relating his feelings and that his family felt that he didn't care for them. They had taken his move to D.C. fairly hard, but in the end they were supportive.

"I suppose that's true. It's just..." Zach didn't know how to convey what he was feeling. How he had regrets about his life in his death. He was never articulate with his feelings and half the time he wasn't even sure he had them but with his passing, he was bursting with emotions and he yearned to express himself. It was too late for him though and while he got to see how much he was valued in his life, those he left behind wouldn't get the same gift.

"It's ok Zach. We all have regrets."

"Even Reapers?"

Alana laughed softly and gave a gentle smile. She didn't want to admit that Reapers probably had the most regrets because they lived but weren't alive. They had to carry their regrets with them in the afterlife and weren't given the luxury of rectifying the mistakes they made when they were alive. Zach would know the burden of knowing all the things he left unsaid and never being able to say them despite his ability to walk among the living. So Alana kept that part to herself and told Zach what she could.

"Yeah, even Reapers."

They walked into the Sanctuary of the Church and Zach proceeded to observe his death rites.

_Several hours later..._

"I recall another reason why I didn't like this school. The masses were overseen by the most long winded pompous man I have ever come across...and I work in academia."

"Heh, yes I agree. That was one of the more lengthy masses I have ever been to. And the Father was kind of a douche. Did he really need to point out that you guys weren't Catholic?"

"Yes, I noticed that was well and thought it wasn't necessary but I'm not religious. I think it's all unnecessary. What is next on our agenda?"

"We see your burial and then the wake at your parent's house."

"I'm sure it will be most somber and depressing."

"Well it is a funeral..."

The day was bright and all too sunny. As illogical as it was to Zach, he wanted the sky to reflect the mood of the service. It seemed as if the world was a happy place where anything could happen, instead of the death of a beloved son, brother, and co-worker. He walked to the front of the crowd that surrounded his final resting place. It was a six foot deep hole and nothing more. Zach had an unreadable look on his face and Alana wondered what he was thinking. He was a hard man to read and everyone took their own death differently. Zach was definitely more stoic than most but he wasn't inhuman. She knew that that very moment it was truly real for Zach. He didn't have the words for it and neither did she. No one would have words for their own death; they scarcely had them for their life. Words fell short in that instance and all they could do was take it in.

Zach couldn't measure or describe the depth of mourning his mother experienced as they lowered her youngest son into the ground. She collapsed under her heavy sorry and wailed out her tears where words would not come. Even his dad, a man who seemed indestructible in his youth, knelt down to his wife, held her, and cried his own anguish.

They weren't as smart as their son, they didn't understand him half the time, but they loved him with all that they were. Without a doubt, Zach knew his parents loved him and a part of them died as they said buried their son.

Zach wished he had a body then so he could cry his own tears of mourning. He would miss his life. He wasn't sure why he looked back but he did. Something told him he needed to see the others who agonized over his passing. What he saw shook him to his very core.

There several people behind his immediate family was the Jeffersonian team. Angela was crying into Zach, unable to look at his mahogany casket slowly lower into the ground. Jack held the love of his life closely and looked as if he never wanted to let go. They were there for each other and held each other up. Tears ran freely from them both but were more subdued than his mother. Camille held herself, struggling to remain strong for her team but failing miserably. She had soaked through her handkerchief, leaving it salty and damp.

Even Lance Sweets was freely crying, someone Zach had never said more than a handful of sentences in his life. The psychologist had a comforting hand on Dr. Soroyan's shoulder, careful not to give her too much physical contact as she didn't want it but enough to know that someone was there for her.

What shocked Zach the most was Dr. Brennan and Booth. Both he had always thought of as these impenetrable and unstoppable forces; strong as steel and above such things as grief; especially Temperance. Of everyone, he would have thought that Dr. Brennan would be the most logical about his death. She would argue that his funeral was pointless as there was nothing they could do about his death. If anything, he would have thought she would stay back in D.C. to work on his case and not waste time on meaningless death rites.

But there she was with his friends and family, at his funeral to observe his burial. She was not merely an observer but a participant. She was not wailing like his mother. She stood tall and rigid, unlike Angela and Zach. She did not have a tissue to wipe away her years like Camille. She didn't even lend a comforting hand to others. She stood there motionless, still as a statue; the only movement where the tears that moved slowly down her face from her sky blue eyes. Beautiful eyes that were normally cool and sharp. That day they were wet with the tears of loss of someone she held very dear to her.

Perhaps it wasn't correct of him but he couldn't help but be more touched by the more restrained Dr. Brennan than his mother's uncontrollable sobs. It was expected of his mother to react in such a way. It didn't mean that he appreciated it any less but he knew how rare such a reaction out of his esteemed superior.

After his casket was laid to rest and the others had made their way to the wake, the Jeffersonian team had stayed behind. Alana made herself scarce as she didn't want to confront his coworkers even in her disguise but he remained with them. It disconcerted him a bit that it seemed as if Dr. Saroyan could see him as her eyes kept following where he walked but it was more as if she was looking through him. She had done the same thing at the Jeffersonian and he discussed it with Alana during the week between his death and his funeral. She told him it was very unlikely the forensic pathologist would actually be able to see or hear him but it was possible she was "sensitive" to other worldly presence, whatever that meant.

Still, it meant a lot to him that they all came and partook of his funeral.

They each took their own turn to say their personal goodbyes. Angela went first and knelt down over the fresh dirt, not caring she would get her clothes dirty.

"Zach...you were the sweetest and most honest man I've ever met. You deserved all the best in the world and I wish you would have met a woman who deserved you. I'll miss patching you and Hodgy up after your crazy experiments. I'll miss our lunches together and you asking such inappropriate questions about your love life. I'll miss your clueless questions about a metaphor that made no sense to you. I'll miss how genuine you were and how you didn't have a malicious bone in your body. You were a beautiful person and I just wish more people had known you as I did."

On his grave she placed a framed piece of parchment with a charcoal sketch of Zach in his lab coat. He was smiling and it was how Angela saw him. He wasn't the weird kid with the skull or the robotic scientist. He was a happy guy who loved his job, friends, and family.

Hodgins went next and held Angela as he had been doing at the service and what seemed like the past several days. He needed her close to him as she needed him.

"Zach, you were my best..." he stopped to catch his breath, as if his words of goodbye hurt him and left him winded. He shed a few tears and did his best to calm himself enough to get through his speech. "You were my best friend. I've never met a better man than you. You accepted me for all my conspiracy theories and sarcasm. You accepted me without judgment and understood me like no one else. I'll never have another best friend like you."

Jack could not say anymore as his chest tightened up and would not let him speak another word. He bent over on next to Angela's sketch he put a complex equation. Zach solved it within minutes but appreciated the sentiment. Jack knew him well enough that even in death, Zach loved a mathematical challenged.

Lance looked expectantly at Camille and she straightened herself up in defiance.

"I don't have anything to say. He's gone and there's nothing more to say."

Zach and Brennan were surprised to hear the head of the Medico Legal Lab say such a thing as it was more expected of the latter.

Lance saw Camille's statement for what it was. She was tired of being hurt and was trying to convince herself that the situation did otherwise.

"We all know that's not true," was all the psychologist said. He could have gone onto a speech about denial, how she was dealing with grief, and the like but he thought the less he said the better things would be.

Camille stepped forward and bowed her head. She looked to her side, the side Zach happened to be on and she felt comforted that he was near even if she couldn't see him. She saw her grandmother's ghost once and she could feel Zach in their presence. He was probably waiting for all of their goodbye's before he could move on and she would oblige him.

"Zach...Zacharoni. It shouldn't have been you. That bastard took the best of us and he knows it. We'll find him and make sure he gets what he deserves. I promise."

They all then looked to Temperance. They were glad that she cried and let some of her hurt out. They all knew how hard it must have been for her. She was still fighting her human instinct to mourn but they weren't going to let her.

"I don't understand why talking to a grave has any value. He's dead, he can't hear us," the forensic anthropologist coolly explained.

"Bones, it's like with your mother. It's not just about if they can hear you, it's about what you want to say if they could," Booth gently nudged.

Resigned she stepped forward and struggled with something to say. Underneath it all she was afraid to say what she was feeling. She was afraid that if she let her emotions out then they would overwhelm her to the point she'd never be able to function again. She didn't understand why the people she loved had to die or leave her. There were far worse people in the world than she, why couldn't death happen only to them? She knew that life was random and coincidental, that there was no higher power picking on her. Temperance wasn't good with words in these kinds of situation. She knew she should be kind but this was Zach; a male and slightly less talented at anthropology version of her. Then a question popped into her head that sounded suspiciously like Dr. Sweets.

"_What would you want said about you from someone you respected_?"

"I've always been proud of you, Zack. I've never met anyone more rational and intelligent"

It was a simple yet profound proclamation. One that Zach would remember for all his unlife.

All the insecurity that plagued him throughout childhood and his adult life seemed to have vanished.

He was loved, he was appreciated, he was mourned, and he would be missed.

Zach was glad that Alana brought him there.

_The Addy residence..._

The wake was much like before the service only with a ton of food and a lot of people squeezed into a smaller space. A legion of relatives had brought over dish upon dish of food. Alana explained to Zach it was traditional to bring the grieving family food to tide them over while they grieved. With the plans and mourning, most people didn't leave room to think of food so it was a gesture of kindness. Zach thought it was a bit of overkill but could appreciate people taking care of his family.

Looking at his Aunt Cordelia's oven baked mac and cheese, Zach felt a longing to be alive just for a few moments. If anything could convince him of the divine it would be his Aunt's family famous noodle dish.

From a distance, Alana smiled at Zach's sad face and how he longed for food. She made a mental note to do something that she thought would ease his transition to becoming a Reaper. The Reaper then mingled more with the guests and she heard the many family stories they had on Zach, mostly censored to be flattering she could tell but she knew that his huge family loved the genius.

Zach mostly hovered around his mother; he wanted to be as close to her as he could for as long as he could. He felt that she deserved to have him close even if she couldn't sense him. He even followed her to the Jeffersonian team. They each gave their condolences and his mother appreciated that they could come. She even embarrassingly told them how much he talked about them and work when he visited his family for the holidays.

"He really loved his job and all you guys," his mother told them, still unable to talk about Zach without crying. She was much more restrained than she was at his grave but she still needed to dab her eyes. Camille had an extra tissue and was happy to share.

"He was a vital member of the team. He will be greatly missed," Booth consoled Mrs. Addy. The others were too emotionally drained at this point.

"Could you all follow me to the library? It was Zach's favorite place in the house."

They all smiled and obliged Zach's mother. They followed her to the small room that was packed with books. It had more than just the classics, it was filled with physics and other applied science books. They could tell it was Zach's sanctuary growing up.

On the desk stood a white and red cardboard box.

"Here's a box of Zach things from his office at the Jeffersonian. I know you guys went through the trouble of sending it to us but I think he would have wanted you guys to have it. Feel free to look through it. If you would excuse me, I need to check on some other family members."

They politely said "Thank you" to Mrs. Addy and Booth was the first to sort through the various nick knacks that Zach kept.

"Oh, I got this form him," Camille smiled as she pulled out the custom trophy that awarded Zach "King of the Lab."

"Yeah thanks, he waved that in my face every day," Hodgins good naturedly ribbed at her. He pulled out a small book and laughed. "The pocket kama sutra. I gave this to him so he'd stop asking Booth sex questions."

They all got a good laugh reminiscing about their departed friend. Jack's smile faltered when he realized "Oh god, did his mom see this?"

That made the team laugh even harder.

The aforementioned Agent pulled out a harmonica and blew a few notes.

"I got Zach this before he went to Iraq."

Angela did her own exploring and pulled out an old white with gold bordered placemat.

"Hey, I drew this for him."

It was a caricature drawing done with a sharpie that boasted Zach "King of the Lab."

"It's interesting that all of his favorite things were objects you people gave him." Lance said with a smile. He was glad that he could help them through their grief this way; they weren't just mourning his passing, they were celebrating his life as well.

Temperance was silent as they each reminisced about how Zach touched their lives and how much Zach loved them. She was hurt that Zach didn't have anything of hers and she felt guilt that she never gave him such novelties.

"I never gave him anything."

"Sweetie, he totally loved you..." Angela said as she tried to console her hurting friend.

"But I never gave him anything."

She removed herself from the group to get a handle on herself.

She found the stairs that led to the second floor and decided they were as good of a place to gather her thoughts as any.

Booth followed her to the stairwell and sat down beside her. He had a white envelope in his hand and took out its contents. It was a single page letter and he began to read from it.

"Dear Mr. Addy, it is my pleasure to offer you the post of my intern in forensic anthropology. I chose you from hundreds of applicants because of your knowledge, your desire to learn, and I feel you will find a home here." Booth then put the letter back in its envelope and handed it to Bones.

She had looked on curiously as he read the acceptance letter she wrote several years ago.

"I think you gave him something great Bones."

She accepted the letter from Booth and leaned her head against his shoulder. They were a great comfort to each other. There was nothing more to say.

Zach was glad that Booth was there for Dr. Brennan. He had a way to articulate what Zach was feeling to the anthropologist that Zach would never have been able to.

He wasn't able to tell his friends how much he loved them but fortunately for him, the things he left behind told them all they needed to know.

Alana saw Zach watching his former coworkers and she knew he had seen enough. He had a peaceful look to his face that could only come with closure. She was glad that he was able to see and hear what he needed to move on. She just had to let him know that he was ready for his next step. She stealthily walked past him and grabbed his arm. She quickly walked past Temperance and Seeley as she was still paranoid that one of them would recognize her. Alana dragged Zach to the back of the house and they left through the back door.

Bones had watched them go and she had a pensive look to her face.

"What's the matter Bones?" Seeley asked of her.

"I think I know that woman."

"Who? One of Zach's million cousins?"

"I guess, I haven't taken the time to actually converse with any of them. I find them too numerous and feel it would be a waste of time to get to know Zach's obscure relatives. Someone should really educate them about birth control and the advantages of birth spacing."

"I wouldn't do that Bones, you do not want to tell a Christian family they have too many kids."

They argued the validity of over population and Brennan forgot where she had seen the woman's bone structure before.

_Back at the motel..._

Alana was glad to be in private quarters. She knew it was time to let Zach in on a big secret.

She had brought back with her a plate of the macaroni she saw Zach eyed at the wake. It was enough for several people and she thought the best strategy would be to just get the truth out there. She didn't want another fiasco like when she stalled on telling him he was dead.

So Alana placed the plate on the desk the motel provided. She unwrapped the dish, took a fork, and dug right in. She savored the perfectly cooked noodles with the several cheese baked on top. It truly was a masterpiece of comfort food.

"Wow, Zach this is really good."

"Yes, I know. My Aunt Cordelia is famous for her mac and cheese," he said as he inched closer to the food. He knew he couldn't eat it but he was drawn to the casserole.

"_Here goes nothing,_" Alana thought to herself.

"Here, why don't you have some," she said as she offered him a fork.

Zach was confused as he looked from the mac and cheese, the fork, and to Alana. He didn't understand why she would offer him something he couldn't touch much less eat.

"Zach, take the fork," she insisted.

He was confused as ever but he compulsively reached for the utensil. Zach was afraid of what was happening. He had accepted that he was dead and incorporeal. It had taken him a while but he fully accepted it. He didn't understand why Alana was doing this to him and he almost refused but he couldn't help himself as he reached for what Alana offered.

When his hand encased the fork and he was actually able to hold onto it without going through it, he dropped it as if it burned him.

"_No_," was all he would think. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was dead. He saw his dead body, he went to his funeral, and he saw everyone grieve for him. He shouldn't be able to hold a fork.

"How?" was all he could get out in his shell shocked state.

"You're a Reaper Zach."


End file.
